


coNTROL

by NateFraust



Series: Horizon [1]
Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 08:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NateFraust/pseuds/NateFraust
Summary: Originally posted to FF.net in October of 2013Seven years after the New Marais Incident, the world has changed. Recovering from a second Civil War, the United States is under martial law; on the outskirts of Seattle, a new Prime Conduit rises.





	1. I

I

 

The first thing he heard was the buzz. It consumed him, never ending, never stopping. A vibration followed, a pulse that threatened to obliterate his fragile hold on the single shred of reality he clung to.

Delsin opened his eyes. Sitting up, he rubbed the back of his head, which felt a bit sticky. He drew his hand into his wavering line of vision. His fingers were covered in blood.

He staggered to his feet, swaying as he took in his surroundings. There was his bike, nearly smashed and charred beyond recognition. He caught sight of a car door on the street, with a arc of slag and a molten handprint burned black in the area where the door handle would have been. There was just enough of a logo for Delsin to recognize the DUP symbol, an eagle with twin arrows. Then he saw the transport.

His brain drummed a maddening beat against his skull as he limped towards the destroyed military truck.  _Dammit_ , he cursed. Would this incessant pounding never end? He reached the truck, which had evidence of a firefight or some sort of incindeary devices all over it. The back of the truck was facing him, a box of smoke and flames. Delsin rushed as best he could towards the opening, trying to ignore the oily stench of smoke and burning human flesh.

He saw the shine of a DUP officer's helmet, and ignored it. Why should he care for the oppressive SOB? He peered around and noticed movement through the fumes. He hurried over to the figure and tried to get his attention.

"Sir? Sir, you need medical help." Delsin said to the hunched over man as he clapped him lightly on the shoulder.  _Don't we all_ , he reflected bitterly. "I need to ca-".

The man grabbed his arm and held on like a vise. "No!" he shouted hoarsely. "No hospitals! They're never taking me back!"

Delsin tried to wrench his arm away from the madman, and ended up touching his wrist to the stranger's thumb. A roar sounded in his ears, and they flew apart. Delsin hit the ground and slid to the back of the car, bashing his head on the end of a cold metal bench. He barely heard the crack of the man's neck as he slid into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a reposting of an old FF.net story of mine to AO3, in order to generate interest in a possible rewrite. Say your piece in the comments.


	2. II

II

Reginald Rowe wore a pattern across the bearskin rug as he paced in front of the phone. Delsin  _should_  have been here already, he reasoned as he glanced toward the oak door, framed by the sunset's colors.

"Screw it." he said. Walking to the phone, he picked it up and dialed 425-496-1927. "Come on, Delsin, pick up..."

_I'm sorry, thi-_

"Dammit!" he said as he threw the phone across the room, where it bounced harmlessly against the wall.

Reggie stormed out of the two story house he and Delsin occupied, rushed to his police car, and got in. Punching the "on" button, he swerved out of the driveway and rushed out into the night.

:::

_7 Hours Earlier_

Delsin groaned. The air was full of smoke, but he could see the slate grey sky.  _What the hell?_  he wondered, rubbing his forehead. That, too, was sticky and grimey. He groaned again, in exasperation.  _I'll bleed out before anyone gets to me,_ he told himself.  _Better start walking._

He rose to his feet, fighting the wave of nausea that came over him, and grabbed for something to hold onto while he hung his head, gasping for air. His hand found purchase on something, but that  _something_  was shifting and churning beneath his palm. He turned his head slowly, and saw nothing.

No, he realized as the object shifted to his grip, not nothing. He was holding onto a vivid black-red rod of  _smoke_.

"Ahhh!" Delsin shouted as he stumbled back. And then teleported away from the pillar, which dissipated into wisps.

He stared at his hands, and noticed for the first time thin streaks of black and red in his veins. His mouth turned up.


	3. III

III

"R18, status," Officer Ichabod "Bodie" Johnson mumbled, popping a gum bubble as he languidly shuffled through the security footage from the lunch hour.  _Same old crap,_  he grumbled to himself, ruffling through his dirty blonde hair. He was just about to get some afternoon shuteye when the right screens for the cameras overlooking exploded into red.

Johnson, startled, rocked back in his chair, his chest hammering. "What the hell?!" he said with ovoid eyes. His gaze leapt from monitor to monitor, never stopping for more than a few moments on each. Every screen was filled with a trio of red comets, snaking and surging up into the night sky. He frantically typed in a distress code, simultaneously tracking the objects' ascent. The group of lights suddenly coalesced into a single form: a young man, dressed in a pair of jeans, a black jean vest with a large shining mass on the chest, a dark grey hoodie, a collared button-down shirt, and a red beanie, with a strange mixture of ecstasy and terror on his face. The facial recognition softwares instantly captured the stranger's face and began to run it through the mandatory citizen portrait database. The software soon had a hit: Delsin Rowe, a 24 year old Native American male, with rebellious dark brown eyes, jet black hair, a pale tan skin tone, and a sly, unruly smirk. Born in Ravenshead, WA, to Finn and Nina Rowe, both deceased, car crash. Older brother, Reginald, police deputy, City of Rainier. He also had a record, Johnson noted. He quickly scanned through the file on hand. Vandalism, civil defiance, improper conduct in public.

Johnson started as a voice sounded hard and strong behind his head. "Johnson," the feminine voice said, "what have we got?"

"A new Biot, Ms. Kyle," Johnson gulped. He felt a trickle of sweat trail down his hairline to his left earlobe, where it hung like a icy earring. He almost pissed his pants when she walked to the right side of the chair, where she hung an arm around his shoulders as she peered at the monitor, bending forward to see the new target and his info. Daring to steal a glance in her direction, Bodie took in his superior's figure. Powerfully built extremities and abdomen, gloved hands, a decent sized bust, a hard yet beautiful Irish face framed by short red hair, and small hoop earrings. Long black military-style trench coat, a military-issue Bluetooth headset, and the bulge of a customized Glock 22 pistol on her outer thigh. Diana Kyle was one mortal siren, and more than one man learned that her first time at DUP's Washington HQ (himself not included, thank God). He heard rumors that she was involved with Jude Nero, and he never doubted it for a second.

"Johnson!"

"Ye-es-s ma'am!" he stuttered, shaken out of his musings. Kyle stared at him in annoyance.

"I  _said_ , call in the SeaTac units. Tell them to go to Ravenshead and shake down the area. If anyone resists, cull the town."

 _Oh, crap_ , he thought as he placed the call, eager to please the boss, anything to stay in her graces.

:::

_1 Hour Earlier_

Delsin stood in shock and ecstasy. He was one of  _them_ , a Bioterrorist. His grin grew even larger. He thrust his hand out, and a bolt of thick, hot smoke shot out of his palm and struck an oak trunk. The oak shattered under the force.

Delsin raised his eyebrows in amusement. "I wonder what else I can do?" he mused aloud. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he visualized a throwing knife. He felt the smoke bubble up between his fingers, rush over his palm, and solidify into a warm and comfortable object. Opening his eyes, Delsin saw a coal-like dagger with a perfectly ergonomic handle and a formidable razor. Twisting, he hurled the smoke knife into a maple. It tore clean through the base. The great grey-brown guardian stood tall and proud, retaining its status for a fleeting moment, before falling. But it fell in the  _wrong_ direction. Delsin stared in sheer paralyzingly terror as it swung faster and faster at his immobile body. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable crushing ending of his short, slightly bright life, acceptance and regret filling his body.

Then the disembodied whistling sound of high speed air filled his eardrums, making him wish that he had thought seriously about going to church , for he was sure he was going down to hell. The sound abruptly stopped, and the air began to grow cold. Delsin cracked open one eyelid to see treetops all around him, and clouds a few miles up. His expression immediately shifted to one of fear and jubilation. He began to fall, faster and faster, rocketing to the ground. Just before he hit the ground, he thought a single thought:  _Sorry, Reggie_. Then he hit the pavement.


	4. IV

IV

Delsin felt his arm as he sprinted, probing it to see if he may have missed any small bits of himself a few miles away. It was difficult enough to reassemble himself after impact. It was one hell of a blast, took down at least 125 trees in an 80-mile radius. But it was worth it. He was now sure of the power he possessed, enough to take on the whole DUP. Nobody would ever challenge him again.

:::

_3 and a half hours earlier_

Diana Kyle drummed her fingers against her cedar wood work table, her chin resting on her palm, as she waited for Jude Nero to finish his meetings so that she could report. She knew all about the rumors of her and Jude Nero being involved with each other, and she smiled inwardly as she relived the experiences of the first few years with him, the feeling of safety she felt when he held her in his arms, the passion of his lips brushed against hers. God, it felt like a millenium ago.

Then it was all ripped away by that stupid fool, John Marx. She felt so powerless, so full of impotent rage. Then Kyle's love revealed his plan to do away with their imbecilic leader, his boss (as Nero was in second command of all military and political systems in the world) and her heart thrilled as he described in great detail what exactly he planned to do with the void formed in the aftermath. Yet a small part of her realized how far gone the man she had fallen in love with really was.

She followed through with her part of the shadowed coup d'etat, of course, her soul numbing and crumbling away as she dispatched the late SF leader's political family, his wife and two small daughters, and his parents. Diana waited, watching as Marx became more and more a paranoid shell of his former haughty self, damning herself to the fire as she saw how low she had sunken, and how blind she had been to trust in, even  _love_ , a sociopathic sadist like Nero. Soon after the loss of his strongest supporters, and thus the majority of his power, John Marx reportedly committed suicide in his then soon-to-be-foreclosed house.

But she knew better. She could still hear the bastard Nero boasting in bed about how he revealed himself to a poisoned, paralyzed, and slowly dying Marx as the master planner in the overthrow of his hated rival's fool-headed "regime", how he manipulated everyone he had under his control to destroy Marx's life. Then she listened in growing horror and fear as he told how he had tortured him ever so slowly, relishing in the pain he inflicted upon his victim, before finally ending the man's suffering with a bullet to the head.

She had felt like retching upon the sheets that covered Jude's chest, but had managed to suppress it. But he must have sensed her revulsion, for a few months later, she was shipped off to DUP Headquarters at Olympia, a city in the military district of the former Independent Conduit Alliance state of Columbia. Kyle took out her rage against Nero on the senior veterans of the task force, injuring many of them in the process. She was quickly promoted to head of the Department. She toughened the weak soldiers through fire and increased the territory the DUP controlled, determined to prove herself to her leader.

A soft, melodious voice brought her back from the misty shadows of her memories. "Hello, Ms. Kyle," a 3D life size hologram of Jude Nero, Head of SF, said.

"Hello, Mr. Nero," Diana said, quickly composing herself before her former lover.

"I have heard that there is a new abomination in Washington, a powerful one. Tell me, is there merit to what I have heard?"

"Yes, sir." Diana said, almost robotically.

"I assume you have a plan to take care of it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," the Head said, bending his head slightly in commendation of her initiative. "Until next time, Ms. Kyle."

"Until next time, Mr. Nero." Diana said. As the hologram fizzled out, she leaned back, blowing out the pent-up breath caused by the tension of the meeting, the barely veiled threats Nero feinted at her. His message was clear:  _Clean it up, or I clean up you._ Straightening, she picked up the desk phone, punched in a number, and said, as soon as the call connected, "I have a job for you."


	5. V

V

Reggie flashed down National Park Highway, hoping that Delsin had found shelter with some elderly couple in a homey old cabin.

"Who am I kidding?" he said. "He knows as well as I do that the DUP patrols this area. Just hope he isn't doing what I think he is..."

_2 Weeks Earlier_

Reggie turned the curb on Tipsoo Loop, his vision growing redder with every yard. He replayed Mr. Blake's words over and over again in his head. "Reginald, your punk brother is at it again. He's over near the old Salmon Bay Cannery."

He noticed a dark figure at one of the crumbling brick walls common in that area, and kicked the gas. The figure, resolving into a dark-haired youth with a red cap and a roguish smile, turned suddenly, his face changing to one of fear and relief. It was Delsin, all right, with a spray-painted DUP poster beside him. Reggie slowed and jumped out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Reggie shouted. "You could- you could- Gahh! I can't even tell you what  _they_  would do to you!"

"Hey," Delsin said, shrugging, "what they  _would_  do doesn't matter, since they wouldn't give two cents what happens in this poor excuse for a shanty town."

Reggie felt the veins in the sides of his neck bulge. Grabbing the kid by the arm, he began dragging him to the still-humming car. "Do you have any idea," he said, "how embarrassing it is to keep arresting my brother over and over again?"

"Well, then," Delsin said, yanking his arm out of Reggie's grip, "should stop arresting your brother over and over again!"

"Do you think this is a joke?" Reggie shouted.

"No, I don't-" Delsin started to say.

"Is this how you want to leave your mark on the world?" Reggie said.

Delsin glanced away, his lips pressing into a tight line.

"I'll see you at home." Reggie said. "If you aren't there by the time I get back, you sleep in the cell."

:::

Reggie noticed a shadowy form on the side of the road ahead of him. Then it was gone. He glanced out the side window, straining to see in the black. The figure suddenly appeared in front of the car. Slamming on the brakes, Reggie twisted the steering wheel hard. It was already too late. The man, if he could call him that, burst as soon as Reggie hit him. A layer of grainy black stuff exploded across the window, effectively blinding him. He felt himself lose control of the car. Then the vehicle flipped, and he hit his head.

:::

Reggie slowly swam out of the black fogginess that surrounded his mind. He numbly checked himself for cuts and broken bones. He was still strapped to the seat, whose owner was lying on its side in a pool of black oil. He heard quick crunching steps.  _Shit,_  Reggie thought,  _he's coming back to finish the job._  He was about to undo his belt buckle when the ground around the car burst into flames. Wriggling and squirming back in horror, Reggie began to scream "Help, someone help!" He began to cough from the smoke rising up from the burning oil. He started to slip into unconsciousness. The last thing he saw before he slipped was a cloud of smoke materializing into a lanky young man with a red cap.

"Delsin…" he muttered before he was swallowed by the darkness..


	6. Interlude I

Interlude I

"Okay, is it rolling?" Abigail Walker questioned as she shoved her captive to his knees.

"Yeah, Abi, it's rolling." Luke Locke replied as he repositioned the video recorder to get a better angle of lighting.

"Okay, then," Abi muttered, focusing on the sweaty, panting, red-capped black man in front of her.  _I wonder if anybody will miss him,_  she thought to herself as she steadied herself for the job ahead.  _Nah,_  she decided.  _All he is is scum, a single speck on the impeccable shine of this metropolis._

Luke held up an open hand, counting down.  _4... 3... 2... 1..._

"Hell-o, Seattle!" Abigail said with a smirk on her face. "My name's Abigail Walker," gesturing to herself with her hands, "but my friend's and enemies call me  _Fetch_. "I've never hurt an  _innocent_  person in my  _life_ ," she said, glancing down at the traitor and shaking her head slowly. Then she forced her hand into his chest, along with an armful of light.

The man grunted once, then slumped forward, his cap falling into the quickly spreading pool of blood.

Fetch leisurely stepped out of the way of the liquid, wiping her arm on a piece of moss. "It's been sent?"

"Yeah."

"Good." she nodded, a smile on her face. "Let them come. They will all burn."


	7. VI

VI

Bodie monitored the live streams of surveillance at the entrance to Lower Queen Anne, Seattle. He tried to shake off the guilt of the part he had taken in ruining that kid's life.  _No,_  he said to himself,  _he did all that to himself. Damn kid shouldn't have been at that wreck in the first place._

"G6, status.

"G6, clear." an officer's voice responded.

"G7, status."  _That's right, Bodie. Just keep going through the motions, and you'll forget all about it soon enough._

G7, clear."

"H1, status." he sighed, gazing down at the keyboard and the automaton's fingers working duly.

His head snapped up at the sound of an explosion on one of the monitors. An alley on John Avenue was full of smoke, citizens stumbling out of the cinders to flee the scene before the authorities arrived, hacking up their lungs along the way.

"What the hell?" he shouted.

"What was that?" the surveillance officer on his left said to him in a panic.

"I- I don't know," he lied, his heart constricting and his breath coming short. "G2, status! G2, repeat, status!"

"What should we do?" the right officer questioned.

He couldn't speak; there was nothing they  _could_  do.

:::

"On me," Connell commanded. "Keep your eyes peeled.  _Go_ ," he motioned to B2.

They walked cautiously down the dark alleyway, keeping constant diagonal formation. Connell's palms grew wet quickly, barely dried by the gloves he wore. His chest pulsed and heaved.

He heard a ring and a whoosh above him, followed immediately by "Up there!" from B2.

The formation quickly dissolved into chaos as the unit's gaze shot up to the apartment rooftops, hoisting their weapons at the shadowy figure at the lip of the building. Suddenly, the figure shot a red-hot mass at B2, taking him down with a terrified cry of "Aaahhh!"

Connells's radio crackled with the terrifyingly obvious "We've lost B2. Check in, B5, B5!" He took stock of the shattered armor of his former comrade, hardening with fear and rage, saying, "Over there, go, go. Cover me." to G1 and B5. They stalked toward the back of the alley, weapons on the ready.

A man materialized in front of them, rushing toward Connell with a burning chain extended in his right hand, which he slammed down on his helmet, crushing it and the head within. He dashed towards G1, gathering something around his fist and smashing it into his mask with a hard right cross, splintering the officer's mask and skull. He turned into a fiery substance and  _flew_  towards B5, grabbing his shoulders and effortlessly throwing him to the ground with a crack.

:::

Bodie watched in horrified fascination as the man, Delsin Rowe, single-handedly took down an entire squad of DUP officers in seconds. He barely noticed the cold rush of air that entered the room, nor Ms. Kyle walking towards the monitors in silence. "I want him alive," she ordered, never minding Delsin's obvious destruction of an entire  _squad_. A DUP truck pulled up to the alleyway, blaring its sirens and blocking the "exit". Bodie scoffed at the amount of balls the officers had to say, "Stop right there!", in full view of their former comrades' twisted and broken bodies.

He heard a rush of air as Delsin gathered hot smoke in his hand, solidifying it into a shifting, burning throwing knife and lobbed it at the truck. The feed from the street caught the explosion of the truck back from the alley, the overturning, everything for a split second before going dark.

:::

Diana waited in enraged silence as the screens for John Avenue and Officer Harper slowly came back online, still blaring that annoying statement, "The DUP is in control of the situation." The DUP was  _not_  in control, everyone could see that!

A vortex of smoke and flame began to spin in front of Harper's camera, rotating faster and faster, louder and louder, until it solidified into the figure of a man, a punk with a chain around his right wrist. She watched as he walked closer and closer, bending down and lifting the helmet to eye level. The other screens came back online, all showing the same face: Delsin Rowe. He breathed heavily, grinning, nodding and turning the helmet this way and that.

"You are  _not_  in control." he said, his mouth setting in a straight line and hate in his eyes as he threw the helmet to the ground, straight in front of Harper's badly burned face.


	8. VII

VII

Delsin materialized on top of the cabin roof. He ran lightly to the edge of the building, grabbing a log, flipped into the air, and dashed into his room in one fluid motion. He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it on the floor, and fell back on the bed.

 _Damn,_ he thought drowsily.  _I love meeting_ -

He fell into the black of sleep.

:::

Delsin awoke to the sound of doors slamming and glass shattering.

"What the hell?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards the door. He was about to open the door when it burst open, revealing Reggie, with bloodshot eyes and a heaving chest. Delsin glanced at Reggie's hands, noting the blood and numerous cuts on the knuckles and back.

"What do you want, Reg?" he asked exasperatedly

"What do I  _want_?" Reggie questioned. " _What do I WANT?!_ " He grabbed Delsin by the shoulders and slammed him against the door.

"I want to know," he said, slurring  _know_ , "what you did last night."

"In fact," he continued, tightening his grip on the jean vest and smearing blood into the fabric, "I want to know when you became one of  _them_."

Delsin grabbed Reggie's wrists and twisted. Reggie released him with a curse.

" _I_  want to know when you started drinking again," he shouted at his brother, barely holding down his stomach when the nauseating smell of Mike's Hard Lemonade hit him.

"You want to know  _that?_ " Reggie scoffed. "Fine, I'll tell you. Just last night, after I waited for you for hours in front of the porch."

"And the slamming doors and shattering glass, that was you taking your rage out on the cups and doors, correct?" Delsin fumed.

"Why, yes,  _brother_ ," Reggie shot back. "How astute you are."

Delsin shoved past Reggie, rushed down the stairs, and took in the small chaos of their living room. It smelled like vomit, sweat, and rotted wheat. KING5 was blaring from the LCD television, glass shards were everywhere, and the front door had a golf club stuck in its center.

He ignored Reggie's slurred shouting behind him, focusing on the television screen as BREAKING NEWS flashed across the glass. A reporter, Jeremiah Darnell, was reporting on the latest public execution by the Bioterrorist, Abigail Walker, or as she liked to call herself, "Fetch". The screen cut to the video of Walker with her recent victim, Matthias Black, a informant for the DUP.  _More like traitor,_  Delsin thought darkly.

He stared at the picture of Fetch on the screen, admiration and hate boiling down to a cold feeling of duty.  _She's going to get herself killed, and even_ more  _people will hate them in the end. I_ have _to stop her._

"Delsin! Look at-"

"Reggie, start up the truck." he interrupted. "I need to take care of her."

"No."

"If you don't," Delsin said coldly, "an innocent's blood will be on your hand."

Reggie was silent for a moment. "Fine," he muttered, "if you want to die, be my guest."


	9. VIII

"All right," Delsin said to Reggie as he shifted in the car seat, "I've got this whole thing figured out. We hit the town, maybe swing by the Space Needle, always wanted to see it, and then we're back home to save some lives."

"You do realize," Reggie responded, "when we  _hit the town_ , there's a fair chance the town's going to, y'know,  _hit back_?"

"Yeah," Delsin said with a mischievous grin, "I know."

The song on the radio, Heart-Shaped Box, sputtered and faded.

"Hey, what the-" Reggie said, slapping the dashboard in annoyance.

"Hello, brothers," a wearied, yet cheerful voice said. "This is the Voice of Resistance. Now, I know I've gone silent for a time, but I have received news of a new Conduit, or Bioterrorist, as some of you dumb sheep call them, somewhere in the northwest. He seems like a pretty powerful one, too. Maybe even as good as Saint Cole…"

"This may be our  _chance_ , people!" the Voice said."Our chance to  _rise up_  against the  _oppressors_  of the common man! If this Conduit comes to you, my friends,  _join_  him! He will be the one to lead you to a new age. Think on my words. Voice of Resistance, out."

Reggie turned off the radio."That guy's been gone for years, and he decides  _now_  to resist the DUP?" he said, shaking his head. "Hypocrite."

Delsin only heard the same word, over and over again:  _Conduit_. "So that's what I am?" he murmured. "A Conduit."

"Delsin."

"Huh?" Delsin muttered, confused.

"I said, 'We're almost there'. I have to go around a few prices of wreckage, but I'll need your help with the burning ones."

"What? Why?"

"Because, in some of the pre-War footage from New Marais, Cole McGrath was able to absorb electricity from his surroundings. I guess you might be able to do the same."

"Okay," Delsin said, "I'll try it out."

:::

"Hey!" Delsin shouted at the startled duo standing near the wrecked car. "Hey, you guys need any help?"

He had just come into the tunnel after clearing the forest entrance of DUP guards, a relatively simple task. Still, he felt a bit drained after firing off all that smoke.

" _It's one of those freaks!_ " one of the civilians said, a man with a scarf wrapped around his head and aviator glasses hiding his eyes.

Delsin sighed, looking away for a second.  _Does everyone_ really  _have to call me a "freak" all the time?_  he wondered.  _I mean, sure, I've got smoke coming out of my arms, but-_

He turned his gaze back to the man just as the latter was bringing up a pistol in one hand. He fired off a round.

" _WHOA!_ " Delsin said, bringing up his hands and taking a step back. " _No, no, no, no-_ " He grunted as the next round hit his chest, the ringing still in his ears as he fell back.

:::

Delsin woke up rather quickly, hearing the sound of smoke rushing into the wound, healing it and dissolving the bullet. "Mhhhmm hhhmm hhmm hm hm," he chuckled, a grin growing on his face. "Oh, this fast-healing stuff is gonna come in  _real_  handy," he mused as the two "victims" turned their heads in his direction.  _Well, they're screwed,_  Delsin thought as he inhaled through his nose and "stood" up, ash and smoke recollecting into his smirking form.

"Oh,  _shit_!" the guy who shot him said, frantically pulling back the slide and bringing it up. But Delsin wasn't there, only a cloud of smoky ashes that rushed toward him, solidifying into Delsin and smashing him to the ground. His neck, and his life, snapped.

"Okay, I give up,  _I give up!_ " his partner said as he dropped his shotgun and raised his hands, getting on his knees. Delsin ran up to him and kicked him to the asphalt.

" _Who are you working for?"_  Delsin shouted, putting his foot on the man's pounding chest. He pushed down slightly. "Obviously, you and your friend there-" he motioned to the mangled body "-were trying to kill me, and since you don't seem to be the decent type, you're working for someone.  _Who_?"

The man had a fit of coughing, then choked out, "Eddie. Eddie Theodar."

"Thanks," Delsin said, then hit the guy in the nose, breaking it and knocking him out. Rising, he turned around and walked a few away; hitting the  _Redial_  button, he called Reggie back. "Reggie, I need you to look into something for me."

"Sure, little brother, anything for you," Reggie muttered, almost unintelligibly, into the mic. Delsin told him the name, and waited, drumming his foot impatiently on the asphalt. He heard some tapping, and then a sharp intake of breath. "What?"

"Delsin, your Mr. Theodar is one of the more- well,  _infamous_  gang members in Seattle. The guy has a pretty long rap sheet. Homicide, possession of narcotic substances, blackmail, larceny… you  _sure_  you want to take him on? Wait, rhetorical question. Of course you do."

"Yup," Delsin said.

"Well, he's over in South Park, near the old Marina. Good luck."

"Won't need it," Delsin said, and hung up.

:::

Delsin, crouched on the edge of a warehouse, watched the thugs unload their precious cargo as water dripped off his stinking hair and body. He had only managed to get about halfway across the Duwamish Waterway before he ran out of energy, and he dropped like a stone toward the obsidian water. It took a while for him to recollect himself, and  _then_  he had to take a few thugs on when he was only a few yards away from the Marina. Needless to say, he was pissed. But still, he was glad that at least it didn't look like a too difficult task.

 _Well, better go and get this over with,_ he thought exasperatedly. Rising, he fired off a few quick bolts in the general direction of the loaders, strafing and dashing past the speeding bullets. Noting a vent in the corner of his eye, Delsin dashed over to it and shot into the air. He glided for a few seconds before gathering an armful of smoke and speeding to the ground. He knocked a cluster of thugs into the air, then shot at one of the airborne enemies, knocking him even further back, into the water. All the while, the heat and smoke of the bullets flying everywhere was being drained into his body, healing the few shots that made it. Grinning, he spun around and blasted a few of the hapless shooters back into a yacht.

"Fall back,  _fall back_!" Delsin swiveled his head toward the new voice that rang out above the rest. A red-haired man stared back at him, terror in his jade eyes. Theodar.

Delsin dashed forward and grabbed the panicking drug dealer; swiveling him around, he put his hostage into a choke hold and, forming a blade of cinder in his fist, put his newfound weapon to Theodar's throat. "Tell your men to put their guns down, or I'll jam this into your throat," he whispered in Theodar's ear.

"Put-" Theodar squeaked, then stopped, clearing his throat as best he could. "Put them down." When they hesitated, he said, more forcefully: " _Put. Them. Down."_  The men lowered their weapons cautiously as Delsin released Theodar and disintegrated the cinder blade. Theodar stumbled forward, regained his footing, then bent over and wretched on the concrete. Straightening and wiping his mouth, he looked sideways at Delsin, eyeing his clenched fists. "I'm sorry, but just  _what_ did I do to piss  _you_  off?"

"Well, a couple of your  _thugs_  tried to kill me," Delsin said slowly, his eyes narrowing and lips turning down. "I killed one of them, but I left the other one just conscious enough for him to spill his guts."

"Really?" Theodar said, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Well, then, I'll have to tell my boys to watch out for a column of black smoke. Anyways, you Biots-" -he smirked as Delsin's frown deepened and smoke started leaking out of his arms- "have been giving me a  _lot_  of trouble."

"What do you mean ' _you Biots'_?" Delsin asked, his brow furrowing.

"Oh, I thought you knew," Theodar mockingly said. "Fetch. She's been killing my guys for weeks now, took out some competition too." He paused for a second. "Hey," he whispered, bringing a hand up to his mouth like he was telling Delsin a secret, "we could help each other out, you know. Just promise that you'll  _take care_  of Fetch for me, and I'll tell you where her next killing spot is going to be."

"Hmm, let me think about it…" Delsin rubbed an imaginary beard. "Nope, sorry, no can do, boss-man."

"Okay, well, don't say I didn't warn you, Biot," Theodar replied, a glint in his eye.

Delsin turned and started running away from the crowd. He was just about to turn into smoke when he heard Theodar yell, "Hey, Biot,  _watch your back_." The words stuck to him as he fled the carnage behind him.


	10. IX

IX

Reggie lit up another Marlboro, fingering the M1911's trigger.  _What's taking him so long,_  he thought.  _I mean, if the Voice was correct…_

"No, Reggie," he said to himself, "the Voice is a terrorist. Delsin is  _not_  the one."

So lost was he in thought, he barely noticed the thump on the roof.

Jerking his arm up, Reggie fired off two quick rounds through the fabric. Cursing, he dropped the gun on the stick shift. The truck lurched forward, picking up speed and filling the cabin with a nipping, roaring wind.

"Shit!" Reggie shouted, jamming the brakes and trying to get the pistol out of the crack of the stick shift. The stick broke.

 _Uh-oh_.

A hand suddenly appeared on the edge of the windshield. Reggie aimed at the bottom of the hand, where the artery was, and fired.

The hand dissolved into jet black and crimson wisps for a moment before solidifying, completely undamaged. The owner poked his head into view, the offended target forming a bird. Delsin.

Delsin's mouth was moving, but Reggie couldn't hear him through the roar. Shaking his head, the stowaway pointed his hand at the road in the distance and melted the asphalt with cinders.

Reggie slammed on the brakes, tossing his brother from the truck. Delsin dematerialized when he hit the ground, the cloud of ash spreading thin before rushing forward, into the truck, and settling back into the passenger seat. Reggie kept his eyes on the road, stifling his argument while Delsin solidified. He stole a quick glance at the Conduit, to find that he was staring at him with annoyance.

"What?" Reggie muttered, easing his foot back onto the pedal and edging past the bubbling puddle of former road..

"You…  _shot at me_ ," Delsin murmured, blinking about eight times, in rapid succession. "Why the hell would you do that?!"

"Because," Reggie said, "I didn't know it was you."

Delsin slid back in the seat.

"You going to fix that mess?" Reggie pointed at the bullet hole in the windshield glass, the one that was slowly leaching heat out of the truck body. His brother sighed, and pointed a finger at the opening.

:::

Delsin concentrated on the hole, to the exclusion of everything else. He felt the rage, the consuming heat, boil through his blood, into his hands, and out through the right index finger. A small jet of reddish-black flame emerged, elongating into a shard of hot cinders, which he carefully moved forward, gently touching the glass above the breach, and moved over and over in a semicircular motion. The plastic and glass slowly bubbled and ran over the hole, small droplets sizzling into the dashboard.

He fell back into the passenger seat, exhausted, but satisfied that he did a good job with the repair. Delsin saw Reggie, out of the corner of his eye, inspect his handiwork. He smiled, before blacking out.

:::

_Delsin._

_Father?_   _Delsin said, confused. He sat up and looked around, but all he saw was white._

_Delsin, I'm right here. The voice was in front of him._

_Delsin strained his eyes, staring until his eyes watered. Blinking quickly, he noticed a shift in the bright light. He thought he saw the general shape of a hand in the air. Getting to his feet, Delsin rushed forward, but he never could catch up and grab the hand._

_Delsin, it's no use, his father's voice said. Not one of the living can see the bodies we now possess._

_No, Delsin shouted, I_ have _to see you, I've missed you for so long…_

_He slowed, falling to his hands and knees. Crying out in anguish, he watched the tears fall._

_I'm sorry, my son, Finn Rowe said. I'm proud of what you've done. I only wish I was there to see it._

_That doesn't change the fact that you're gone, Delsin muttered, pink eyes staring at his reflection in the puddles._

_No, Finn sighed, it doesn't. But now you have the power to make a difference. Just, don't waste your life for the sake of this one girl._

_What? Delsin jerked his head up in shock and confusion._

_The other Conduit, the one known as Fetch, don't waste your time with her. She's only going to get herself and the rest of the people she cares about killed, and I don't want you to be one of them._

_Just go_ home _, Delsin, Finn said. Go home and live your life._

_Delsin, it's time to wake up._

:::

Delsin awoke with a cough, chest heaving. Reggie was standing over him, blocking the late afternoon sunlight, checking his pulse for signs of life. Delsin noticed the remnants of the truck a few yards behind them, filled with earth and fire.

"What-" Delsin hacked out.

"I don't know, Del," Reggie said to the pavement. "One minute, I was driving along, trying to avoid patrols, the next, I wake up, my truck," he motioned to the pile of scraps, "is destroyed, and you're lying on the ground, with barely a pulse."

Delsin rubbed his throat, coughing like crazy. "So, what do you remember from the time before you were knocked out?"

"Well," Reggie pondered, rubbing an imaginary beard, "I was trying to avoid the patrols, as I said before, and then.."

"Yeah?" Delsin prompted.

"There was someone in front of me," Reggie muttered, his forehead wrinkling. "I think it was a man in a tan suit. I'd swerved to avoid him, but he just held up his arm, and I blacked out."

Delsin, crouching, went over Reggie's recollection in his head, glancing at the wreckage.  _As far as I can tell, the tan suit guy is another Conduit,_ he reasoned.  _But why did he attack in such a way that people would notice the abnormality?_

"Okay," Delsin said, looking up at Reggie, "we need to find an outpost, a campsite,  _something_ , so that someone can take us back home."

He rose, turned, and started walking in the direction of the wreck, not hearing as Reggie jogged after him, muttering, "Yeah,right. I'm  _sure_  there will be civilization within the next 33 miles or so."

:::

The pair reached an outpost after about 2 hours and 25 miles. The sun had sunk into the horizon an hour and a half earlier. Delsin studied the place. Exactly like a woodland cottage in every respect, except for the truck behind the building and the sign hanging above the roof emblazoned with the words  _Mount Rainier National Park Rangers_

Delsin bounded up the porch stairs and pounded on the door. A stocky black man with an orange eyepatch and a scar on the right side of his face yanked the door open, staring at the Conduit with surprise and a hint of suspicion. "What do you want?" he barked gruffly.

"My brother and I need to get home." Delsin replied. "We were in a wreck, and-"

"Let me guess," the scarred man said sarcastically, "you need a place to stay and a way to get back into the city or back home. Well," he said, his voice hardening as he reached for something out of Delsin's view, "I've seen enough nighttime wrecks in this area to know that it's nearly impossible to survive."

"So," he continued, bringing a MAUL shotgun into view and leveling it at Delsin's chest, "either you're one of the deviant Bioterrorists, or you have extremely bipolar luck. Which is it, hmm?"

Delsin was about to reply when Reggie, who was leaning against one of the pine pillars, suddenly pushed off and stepped forward into the light. "Wilson?" Reggie asked, his eyes widening. "Rafe Wilson?"

"Hey, Reginald," Rafe said. "Didn't expect you to come back after the eruption, what with Laura-"

"Yeah, let's  _not_  talk about that,okay?" Reggie interrupted, eyes flashing. "Anyways, let's put the shotgun back before Delsin here gets pissed off and fries your good side."

Delsin shot back a look at him. Reggie ignored him, continuing while Rafe flipped the safety on, but keeping , "Like Delsin was saying, we need a ride back to Rainier."

Rafe gazed at his old friend, then at Delsin. "Okay," he submitted. "Just point me where you're going, and we'll go."

:::

Delsin stared at the back of Reggie's head as Rafe's Silverado bumped along the forest road. The two former officers were talking and laughing, but he only heard snatches of their conversation through the yellowed glass. From the pieces, he was able to understand that Rafe Wilson was once a ranger for the Mount Rainier National Park, before the War and the eruption.

Delsin didn't know what the eruption was about or how it happened, but he had heard from survivors that near the end of the War, a moderately powerful Bioterrorist named Matthew Walter had caused the ancient stratovolcano to detonate, spraying the area in a layer of ash and hot lava. The casualties were high, at least 330 thousand, with the shockwave generated by the blast flattening many of the surrounding towns and cities, and damaging many buildings in Seattle, including the Space Needle. The ICA had lost many members that day, losing the war soon after, with the DUP taking control of the area after they had finished routing the last of the "Bioterrorist threat".

There was a sudden ringing noise from the cabin of the truck. Rafe patted his breast pocket, took out his radio, and clicked the reply button on. He answered cautiously, then stopped the truck, slid back the glass separating Delsin from him and Reggie and handed him the communicator. "It's for you," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Delsin slowly raised the communicator to his mouth, clicking the reply button. "Hello? Who is this?" he said slowly, eyeing the quickly passing forest.

"Hello, Delsin," a rich, tenor-like voice responded. "This is Mrs. Napier. I've been watching you for a while, waiting for you to do something. Something  _big_."

Delsin cupped the radio in his right hand, muttering with a small grin, "So, what did you think?"

"You didn't disappoint, that's for sure!" Mrs. Napier giggled. "I mean, with what the DUP has been doing over the past couple months, upsetting the established order, that takes some pretty big ones."

Delsin began to laugh, but suddenly stopped. With everything that just happened, how could he be sure that this "Mrs. Napier", as she called herself, was actually an opposing force to the DUP?

Very slowly, he said, "How can I be sure-"

"Shit!" Mrs. Napier said. "Delsin, the questions can wait! I just intercepted a DUP transmission to all local law enforcement officers, and, Delsin, they say that they have Esther Ridgeway."

Delsin stared at the glass in horror, his mind racing.  _They'll kill her if I don't get there in time!_

He pounded on the glass, shouting as soon as Rafe opened the panel, "Step on it! We need to get to Rainier  _now_!"

:::

"Okay, Delsin," Mrs. Napier said. "I've just texted you the entire floor plans for the Watershed, so that should make your job a little easier."

"Thanks, N," Delsin whispered, reaching for the shut off button on the radio. "Going radio silent."

"Good luck."

Delsin crept forward, careful to keep the general shrubbery surrounding him undisturbed. Napier had proved herself to be a useful ally, helping the trio bypass the security gate around the area, leading them through the winding forest paths to the rear of the compound, and keeping the patrols preoccupied with erratic orders for change in course from an "Officer Jackson".  _Need to make sure I get to know her better,_  he noted.

A lone DUP officer strolled into view, whistling some old tune from before the War. Delsin waited until he had his back turned to the forest surroundings, then sneaked forward, scanning for any other patrollers and wrapping the chain around both hands. Seeing none, he wrapped the bulky garrote around the panicked guard's neck and pushed towards the ground. The guard's sudden scream was reduced to a wheezing vibration, as he vainly struggled to summon his comrades through a broken larynx. Delsin waited until the man had died, then vaulted over the railing, and headed into the building.

:::

Delsin flexed his fingers as the officers spread throughout the generator room, counting the strength of numbers. At least forty men stood between him and the way to Esther. He grinned, eyes narrowing. They had no idea what was about to happen.

He shifted a foot. A single shot rang out, the bullet hitting Delsin's ankle… and passing straight through. The entire group blanched, then stared as the offender was cut down like a irksome branch. He quickly shot down six of them before the firing began. Delsin dashed behind a concrete column, collecting his rage as the pieces chipped away. Dashing out of cover, he tossed out a cinder knife, then slid behind a turbine as the officers struggled to recover from the explosion. He peeked out, and seeing the enemies start to rise, ran over and beat them down to the floor.

Delsin stood over the twisted bodies of his kills, the rage dissipating to nausea. Bending over, he wretched on the faceplate of a fallen foe. Straightening, he turned his head towards the door, stepping over the obstacles and reaching for the handle.

He heard a small buzz above him, then felt a prick at his neck. Slapping at it, he quickly pulled his hand away and into view. His palm had bits of metal and glass on it.  _Shit,_  he thought as his brain shut down and his vision narrowed to a pinprick, then vanished.

:::

_Two weeks earlier_

"Delsin, come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry."

"Don't worry, Esther," Delsin murmured, eyes closed as he lay with his hands behind his head on the grassy hill. "I'll make sure that your dad doesn't even notice you're gone."

"Yeah," he heard Esther quip," I'm sure you've got some serious arsenal up your sleeve. You'll just make it all disappear, like some magician."

"Sure," he said, opening his eyes and staring at the angelic, dark-haloed face hovering over him. He pecked Esther on the cheek, then sat up and drew his knees near his chin. He sighed as Esther ran her hands over his taut back, sliding them over his shoulders to interlock them around his neck.

"So," she whispered, her voice tickling his ear, "got any new paintings for me?"

"Yeah," he said, pulling his iPhone 7 out of his left jacket pocket. She took it, sapphire irises shining, lips set in a line, only a twitch betraying her satisfaction.

"So?" he prompted.

"Nice," she finally replied, handing him back the touchscreen, the tips of her fingers lingering on his wrist, her eyes lifting to meet his. "I mean, you're no Banksy," Esther elaborated as she withdrew her fingers and gazed up at the forest, "but you obviously know what you're doing.  _Me_ , on the other hand..."

"What happened?" Delsin prodded, his brow contracting.

"Oh... nothing major," she said hesitantly, brushing a wayward lock from her eyes,  _still_ not meeting his gaze. "Just got a job offer, that's all."

"With whom?"

"The DUP," she said in a rush. "They said that they wanted someone who had knowledge of the area around Seattle, so-"

" _What?!_ " Delsin shouted in shock and rage. "Es, you know what they are! The  _only_  thing they offer is-"

"What, Del," Esther interrupted, her voice rising, " the only thing they offer is what,  _death and chaos?_  This is an opportunity for me, and you're going to sit and tell me that I shouldn't take it?"

"No, I just don't want to lose you," Delsin whispered, tears beginning to drip down his chin.

"Well," Esther choked, "you just did."

:::

"Mr. Rowe."

Delsin slowly opened his eyes to blinding light, and quickly screwed them shut. He cracked them open after the throbbing had stopped. He was in a dimly lit control room, molded to a chair made of concrete, some sort of armband latched onto his left arm, and about six to seven DUP officers had their shotguns or assault rifles trained on his chest or head.

"Mr. Rowe, allow me to let you in on a... well," the quiet, numb voice murmured, "a little secret."

The shadows in front of Delsin's eyes parted to reveal a lean, blond-haired male in civilian clothes and slacks, hands clasped behind him and a wrapped object strapped to his left shoulder.

"You see, I have quite a common name. Johnathan Grey. Before all of this, we could pass each other on the street, and you would think I was just another white-collar worker, working for a patsy government, with no idea what evil the corporations who run the country have done, and you my superior. But now..."

Grey unsheathed a strangely shaped sword, watching Delsin as he lowered the maroon blade to his right side. "You want to know what this is, huh? Well, it's an ancient Japanese weapon called the tanto, a kind of katana. This particular one was handed down to me from my father. A bad man, but," he shrugged, "at least he gave me this.  _Now_ ," he whispered, "the scales are balanced."

He snapped his fingers, and a girl stumbled out of the darkness, falling to the concrete floor. Delsin stared at her, fear returning. "Esther?" he whispered

Grey grabbed Esther roughly by the hair and jerked her up, ignoring the cries of pain and fear as he did this. Twin streams of concrete flowed up to her wrists, meeting and hardening. She gazed at her wrists in horror, trying to jerk away from the firm grip on her locks. Esther looked up, bloodshot sapphires wide in terror as she met Delsin's blurring gaze. "Delsin,  _help_ -" she started to scream, when Grey backhanded her across the face. She collapsed to the floor.

"You  _bastard_!" Delsin shouted at Grey as he struggled futilely against his restraints, obscenities streaming from his lips to mix with the fast-coming tears dripping to the floor. Throat growing raw, he stared in mute, horrified rage as his tormenter grabbed Esther's arm, pulling her up to her knees, the gray liquid forming a bar across her stained jeans.

"Do you have any  _idea_ ," Grey said, feathered voice growing gravelly and hard with amusement and a hint of rage, but a smile starting to appear, "what I could do to this girl? Esther, isn't it?" He turned his eyes down to the shivering girl, gaze tracing the quivering, shoulder-length taupe hair, the clenched jaw, the fiery eyes. He squatted, reaching out his hand to brush a stray hair from her face. She flinched away.

Grey withdrew his hand, wiping it on a teal sleeve. He looked up at Delsin, and the white chasm grew. His laurel eyes showed no fear, and all madness. Dropping to his knees once more, he turned his back to his observer. "Here," he tossed out, a short giggle drifting out, "I'll show you." He plunged the blade into Esther's abdomen, twisted, then yanked it out, oblivious to the cries from both the victims, one of agony and pain, the other of rage and misery. Rising to his feet, he wiped the blade with its wrap, then sheathed it and strode out of the room. The guards stood at attention as he passed, then retreated. Delsin's seating and Esther's restraints dissolved as soon as they left.

" _Esther!_ " Delsin sobbed, sprinting over to her side. "I'm sorry, I never should have-" He broke off, vision blurring as he took off his jacket, stuffing it into the narrow, but deep wound. "Oh, God!"

"It's alright, Del," she whispered, lifting her hand to stroke his face. "I should have listened to you. Just promise me one thing…"

Hands stilling, Delsin stared into her peaceful eyes. "Anything," he whispered, cupping her head in his right palm.

"Do right with your life," she whispered, voice strengthening. "For me, and for all the others."

The hand fell away as the eyes dulled. Sobbing uncontrollably, Delsin drew the body to his chest, gathered the legs, and rose, putting the arms around his neck, the head on his shoulder, and, closing the eyelids, he walked out of the room.

:::

Delsin sat back on his haunches in the freshly churned andisol underneath the pines, exhausted, not from the labor, but from the hollow in his chest.  _I should have told her,_  he mused numbly. Pushing off from the ground, he stumbled towards the path he had come from.

_An hour and a half later_

"What happened?" Reggie asked as Delsin climbed into the back of the Silverado. Rafe started up the truck and began slowly driving away.

"She's gone."

"Delsin,  _what happened_?"

"She's  _dead_ , okay?" Delsin shouted, red-hot tears surfacing as he looked up. "She was murdered, right in front of me. I had all this power, and I couldn't save her."

"I know," Reggie said empathetically, looking through the window at his brother. "I know, but you have to keep going, for her."

Delsin gave a short bark of laughter, grinning in spite of the tears streaming down. "That's the last thing she said to me."

"Well, she was right." Reggie paused, lost in his own mind for a moment.

"Where to now?" Rafe said, breaking the silence.

"Home." Delsin said. "We need to go home."


	11. X

X

Reggie returned the fearful stares of the many who rushed past with indignation, scowling at the few who looked on with scorn and rage on their faces. Yet no one stepped in his way, tried to throw a punch. They parted before him like water around a boulder, grazing the sides of shops or stepping into the gutters.  _I wonder why,_  he mused dryly. He could still smell a faint hint of metal, wafting from Delsin's arms as he shuffled forward, his chin bumping into his jacket as he viewed the sidewalk, not looking up even once.

Reggie wished desperately that he could comfort his little brother somehow, but he stayed six steps behind, understanding the emotions coursing through Delsin's mind. He needed to sort this out on his own, make sense of  _why_  something like that could happen.

He saw a couple up ahead, a husband and wife in their mid-50s, and walked faster. But it was no use. Delsin had looked up The old woman slapped Delsin full across the face, her own contorting into a grimace, tears streaming down her cheeks

" _Why?!_ " Mrs. Ridgeway screamed, her voice full of pain and anger. She flailed, beating her clenched fists on his jacket. " _Why did you take her from us?_ "

Delsin turned his head to the road, eyes glistening. He allowed her to beat on him for a few minutes, her tears soaking his shirt, until finally the pounding subsided, overcome by great, heaving sobs. Mrs. Ridgeway backed away into her husband's arms, the two sinking to the sidewalk.

Mr. Ridgeway comforted his wife, hushing her and brushing her silvering hair. He lifted bloodshot eyes to Delsin. "Why?" he asked, voice husky and breaking. "Why did  _those_  men come? Why did they  _do this_  to us?"

:::

Delsin was torn. His heart was breaking, and yet he hesitated.  _Should I tell them the truth?_  he wondered. An image of Esther laughing flashed before his mind's eye. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them.

"They were looking for- for me," he admitted, the tears starting to come. "They knew that I'm one of  _them_ , and so they took her to get to me. I tried to save her-"

"She's dead?" Mr. Ridgeway whispered. "Our little girl- Oh, God, no." He clutched his wife closer to his chest. "No, no, no, no, no." He stared at the concrete for an eternity, repeating the word over and over. Suddenly, he looked up at Delsin, eyes filling with hate. "Get out of my sight."

Delsin stared at his shoes. "Sorry," he muttered as he stepped around the pair. He heard the rush of Reggie's shoes as he jogged to catch up with his brother, then fell into step at his side. "They hate me, don't they?" he asked quietly.

"No," Reggie said, his breathing slow, "they're just in grieving. Hating you would be the same as if they hated her. Just... keep your distance for now, okay?"

Delsin nodded, and walked faster, away from the pain and misery he had wrought.

:::

Their house was closer to the outskirts of Rainier than most, the logs and surrounding forests giving the place a sense of calm and unity with nature.

Reggie opened the door and stepped inside, Delsin close behind. Everything was exactly the way they left it, down to the chaotic kitchen.

It was too perfect.

Reggie crossed the living room floor, ran inside the hallway, and opened the door to his office. Papers were  _still_  strewn across the large oak desk, his spare shotgun propped up against the side. Reggie rounded the side of the desk, snatching randomly at a folder. It felt surprisingly light. He raised the cover to his eyes and read the file name. Abigail Walker.

Hands trembling, Reggie opened the manila folder, read the single sheet inside, and slowly closed the folder. He exited his office, walked back through the hallway, and entered the living room. "Delsin…" He faltered.

Delsin was lying on the couch in front of the TV, cheeks glistening as he stared at his iPhone. He slowly sat up, swung his legs over the edge, and stood, still looking at the smartphone as if he and it were the only things in the universe. He tossed it over to Reggie. "We're leaving," he said in a hollow voice, his eyes meeting his brother's, "and we aren't coming back until the job is done."

Reggie broke contact and looked down at the bright screen. He read the words quickly, then tossed the iPhone on the couch, shuddering. The DUP had put a warrant out for their arrest, with specific orders of shoot to kill, but no pictures, which he thought was odd. Surely with all of their surveillance, they would have gotten some form of identification.

"Reggie…" Delsin walked towards the door, Reggie following. He turned suddenly. "Reggie," he said, jabbing towards the phone, "I did this, and I gotta fix it."

Reggie sighed. "Well, then what do you suggest?"

"Abigail," Delsin said, his eyes glittering. "We need to find her, and stop her."

:::

"Hey, Reg, that Conduit struck again," Delsin said to the voicemail as he shuffled forward in line, eying the guards as they gazed lazily at the small, whispering mass of citizens. "I've got to stroll through this security checkpoint first, and then I'll scope it out."

Delsin and Reggie had left the house as soon as the sun had begun to set, making their way to the DUP checkpoint nearest to the Space Needle. Reggie had used a lot of his former partners and connections to pinpoint exactly where Fetch would be in the city. She had been tracked down to a circular area about a mile wide in diameter, with Denny Park at the center.

Delsin clenched his fists as he got closer to the checkpoint, trying to calm his pounding heart. He shifted his eyes as the world began to flash red, alarms blaring. A man's cry rang out,"No, that's impossible! I'm not one of them! I'm not!"

A barrage of brief  _braap_ s and  _splat_ s, like a series of lightning-fast paintball shots, sounded, a precursor to the dozens of screams as the mob of people surged forward, stampeding over the guards, bodies dropping to the pavement.

Delsin ran along the outside edge of the surge, weaving his way through the panicked, screaming citizens. He felt a wave of remorse rise up in his chest, but he shoved it down and kept going. The man was going to die sooner or later, it just happened to be the former.

Spotting a vent on the side of a building, he broke off from the mass and dashed over, shooting out the covering as he went. He dashed through the newly made opening and shot up to the roof, blowing up into the sky. "Woo-hoo, ha ha, YEAH!" he shouted in jubilation, grinning like a madman; despite the recent horrors, he somehow still found ways to enjoy his power.

His phone started beeping, screen flashing  _Reggie_. He tapped the  _Answer_  button. "Delsin, you okay?" Reggie's voice crackled through. "I just got an alert about a shooting near your location."

"Yeah, just.." He muted the phone, mouth gulping for nonexistent air. He unmuted the call. "Just trying to get over to the park. I'll call you once I find her."

"Okay, just stay out of sight, okay?" Reggie said, voice calming. "I'd hate to have to come and break you out."

"Ha, ha," Delsin said, and ended the call.

:::

Delsin grasped the oak branch as he watched the pavilion. He had spent the past half-hour avoiding patrols, keeping out of sight like Reggie had said. He still didn't see Fetch, but he could see her kneeling victim: a dirty-blond haired woman, dressed in a DUP cadet's beige-and-black hoodie and a pale golden long-sleeve T-shirt. Reggie had identified her as Captain Alicia Collins.  _Obviously a spy_ , he thought.  _How Fetch found her, though, I don't-_

A flash of light caught the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see a streak of light appear from the right. The streak dissipated in front of Alicia, Abigail Walker appearing out of the light. She cracked her knuckles and neck. "So, you know who I am?" she said, looking down at Alicia.

Alicia didn't respond

"I said, do you know who I am?" Fetch pressed, her brow wrinkling as she walked around her still-mute victim. "What, Reaper got your tongue?"

"You," Alicia said, almost too quietly for Delsin to overhear, "are Abigail Walker, aka Fetch. You are a Bioterrorist-"

Fetch stepped forward and slapped her across the face, fingernails drawing bloody scratches across Alicia's face. "Shut up! I'm a survivor!"

Alicia chuckled, wincing as the scratches spread and blood began to flow. "A Bioterrorist, and daughter of Mark Walker, the man behind the Rainier Catastrophe. You are a histrionic, sadistic  _freak_  of a human being. In fact-"

Fetch, bending down and grabbing the handcuffs, jerked Alicia to her feet. Spinning her around. she wrapped her right hand around the panicking woman's throat. She lifted Alicia into the air, squeezing. "You know  _nothing_  about me!" she shouted, features wrinkling in rage. "I've done everything in my life to survive you and your damned DUP, and you think  _you know me_?!" She drew her left hand back, light gathering around her clenched fist.

Delsin jumped forward, out of the oak tree, and dashed over to the pair of predators. He grabbed Fetch's arm and jerked it back, throwing her off balance. "Run!" he yelled to the startled, wide-eyed Alicia as Fetch started to recover. "Get out of here!"

Alicia took the hint and bolted. Delsin turned around, just as a fistful of light hit him in the face. Staggering back, he was barely able to dodge a lightning-fast blur of punches as Fetch attacked. Blinded, he struck out randomly, a cinder blast hitting something soft. Shaking his head to clear the lights, he saw Fetch push herself up from the ground in front of an oak. Dashing over, he tried to grab her, but she streaked away, leaping over park benches and fences. He dashed after her, but she was too damn fast! She was out of sight within seconds.

"Damnit!" Delsin shouted. He jabbed the  _Redial_  button. "She's gone!"

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" Delsin retorted. "Fetch!"

"Okay, I'm getting her location..." Reggie tapped away at something. "Okay, she's heading southwest of the park-"

"Got it," Delsin said, and hung up.

:::

Abigail slowed to a stop and hurried into the loft, shoving the sliding screen door open. The first thing she noticed was the relative cleanness of the place; the La-Z-Boy was devoid of blankets, the sofa's upholstery was smoothed down, and the mahogany floor was shining. Panicking, she crossed the room and opening the door to the bedroom she and Luke shared.

"What are you  _doing_?!" she shouted as her shocked eyes took in the open suitcase and clothes strewn across the bed. Luke crossed into her line of vision, eyes peering at her contorting features.

"Didn't expect you to be back so soon," he muttered. "What happened?"

"I asked first.  _What are you doing_?"

"I'm leaving," he responded, eyes downcast.

"Why?"

Luke suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and stared in her eyes. "Because," he said, his words sticking to her mind like caramel, "I'm a spy for the DUP. I only played along to get close to you, and now that you know the truth, you'll never forget. You'll be tormented by it until you tell someone, and even then, you'll remember this moment and shudder at your  _weakness_."

Abigail stood rooted to the floor in shock and revulsion, her mind barely registering the stranger who got his bags and pushed past her. Only when the door shut with an inaudible  _click_  did she inhale. She sank to the floor, her mind rebelling against what she knew in her heart to be true.  _Why else would he get so close to a "freak"?_  she thought with grim humor.

Abigail suddenly jumped to her feet. How did that guy  _find_  her? She had always been careful to cover her tracks; unless…"Luke, you bastard," she said in a furious whisper. She whirled around, destroyed the windows with blinding light, and rushed out into the night.

:::

"Delsin, she's changing course."

"What do you mean,  _she's changing course?_ " Delsin whispered as he slowed and crept to the edge of the building next to the El Gaucho Inn.

"I mean, she's going southeast now," Reggie elaborated. "Hold on… she just set off a DUP alarm at the Battery Street Tunnel, reports coming in of at least 10 dead, 3 civilians. Delsin, be car-" His voice cut out as Delsin shut off the phone.

He leapt off the building's edge, rolling as he hit the hard cement. He sprinted forward, jumping over the heating unit, and dashed across to the next roof. He jumped forward to the next building, grabbing for an edge and clambering up to the roof. He watched the street as he ran, his face hardening as he saw the chaos Fetch had caused, dead bodies and overturned cars everywhere. He ran harder.

:::

Delsin saw the streaks of light as he got close to Bedlam Coffee. He followed them to the Crocodile; seeing the streaks running up the side of the building, he ran over to the edge and jumped up. Scrambling and grabbing ledges like a monkey, he shot up the building. As Delsin grabbed the metal rooftop's edge, he caught sight of Fetch, who was too busy looking in on something through the glass section to notice him.. He jumped onto the roof, gliding to minimize the sound. Fetch jerked her head around at the smell of smoke, turning quickly as she spotted him. Delsin sprinted to her, dodging the blasts of light she shot at him. The glass roof cracked as soon as he stepped on it, shattering as he tried to grab Fetch. The duo fell like rocks as shards rained around them. Delsin braced himself as he sped to the ground, then his world went black.

:::

"Delsin! Delsin, are you there?! Damnit!" Reggie shouted as he slammed the truck door, ignoring the sloshing, spilt coffee. Delsin had gone silent for a while, but when he tried calling back, all he got was static.  _What if they found him?_  he thought as he jogged away from the Starbucks. He took out his Galaxy S12 and activated the tracker on Delsin's phone he had secretly installed as a precaution.  _Okay, he's stationary and- he's_ in _the Crocodile… that's not good._  Reggie locked the phone and jogged towards the Crocodile, praying to God that Delsin was alive.

:::

"Hey, Delsin, Delsin." A man was running towards him. Slowing, the man knelt and propped his head up. "You all right, brother?"

Delsin sluggishly widened his eyes, Reggie coming into sharp focus, and croaked, "What happened?"

"Oh, you did good, you did good, buddy. Come on, get up, get up," Reggie grunted, grabbing Delsin's hand and helping him up. "Whoa!" he said as Delsin staggered back and found his footing. "You did good. I know just where to put  _filth_  like this," he said in disgust as he looked at Fetch's prone body, "somewhere where the DUP won't find her, and she won't be hurting anybody else." He stepped forward, then turned his head as Delsin grabbed his arm.

"Whoa, no, no, no, no, no." Delsin said as he grabbed his brother's arm. "She's just killing drug dealers, man."

"Killing?" Reggie scoffed. "Delsin,  _murdering_  drug dealers."

"What do you think I'm doing with the DUP?" Delsin said, putting his hand to his chest as Reggie turned to face him.

"What you have to to  _save_  the people back home," Reggie said, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. He tried to catch Delsin's eye as the latter sighed and looked at Fetch.

"Yeah, well, she stays free," Delsin said, looking his brother in the eye as he turned and started walking over to Fetch, only to be stopped by Reggie, who pulled him back.

"No, no way," Reggie said as he pulled his brother back from the prone girl. "Just because you have the same affliction-not  _gift_ ,  _affliction-"_ \- Delsin looked back at him, his mouth set in a line as he continued- "doesn't mean we're going to pick up every little piece of trash we find."

Delsin recoiled, a hurt look growing on his face. "Look, I'm never going to abandon you, all right?" Reggie assured him. "Not ever. But this one goes in a cage."

Abigail suddenly scrambled to her feet and started to run. "No, hey!" Reggie grunted as he pushed Delsin aside. He caught up to the female Conduit and put her in a chokehold. Cuffing her, he started to drag her away as she futilely protested, beating weakly against his arms.

"It should be my responsibility," Delsin suddenly said, pointing to himself.

Reggie scoffed. "Yeah," he said, "because responsibility isn't exactly something you excel at." Abigail let go of his arm.

"I got this," Delsin repeated softly, motioning slightly with his head.

Reggie sighed frustratedly, pushing Abigail over to his brother. "Fine. I'm here for the  _town_ , not to haul in  _Bioterrorists_."

"I'm a  _Conduit_!" Abigail said through clenched teeth, taking a step forward, though Delsin held her back, as the former sheriff walked away from the pair.

Delsin sighed as he watched his brother trudge away. "He's cool," he said, turning to Abigail, eyebrow raised. "He's normally cool, just… not today."

" _Yeah_ ," Abigail said, catching her breath. "Let's talk." She turned and started walking away.

Delsin looked back one last time at the slowly fading tan jacket, then turned and followed her.


	12. Interlude II

Interlude II

Diana tapped her fingernails on the desk, chin cupped in one hand, and waited. She didn't have to wait long. The shadows cast by the single lamp in the upper left corner of the office lengthened for a handful of seconds, then retreated to their dedicated positions. "You're late."

"Really," a silky-smooth, lightly baritone said from beyond the circle of light, "you'd think I'd have earned  _enough_  grace to have some leeway with my time." A grin appeared out of the gloom, ghostly ice-blue eyes hovering over the too-wide facial expression, like a demonic Cheshirian scar. The owner slowly emerged: taupe leather loafers, onyx cargo pants, and a jet-gray long-sleeved shirt, all belonging to a rugged-looking man, who swung his tan coat over his right arm, smirking.

"Your report, Carey." Diana said curtly. " _Now._ "

"All right, all right, jeez." Isaac Carey drew his legs together, sucked in a breath, and said, "Fetch is a no-go."

" _What?_  What do you mean she's a  _no-go?_ "

"I mean," he elaborated, voice hardening as his thin lips set into a frown, "the assignment was a failure. She's too chaotic, too… too  _impure._  She'd never help us, not even if we node her."

Diana turned away from the frustrated man and observed an obscure piece of metal stuck in the wall. "Mason will have your head for this, you know."

He snorted, a short pop of air escaping from his flared nostrils. "Mason? What can that pile of rocks do to  _shadows_? One flip, and  _boom_ , ruby gravel."

"Still," Diana said slowly, "you should keep an eye on her. We can't let her run loose, especially not with this new Biot around."

"Yes, ma'am," Carey said, throwing up a mock salute and stepping back.

Diana watched the shadows shift and settle, and breathed a sigh of relief. Isaac Carey was truly a demon, but he was a necessary evil, and she needed all the power she could get, damned or otherwise.


	13. XI

XI

Delsin followed Abigail up to the roof of the Crocodile. Together, they stared out at the glowing streets, observed the people scurrying to and fro across the streets.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Abigail murmured, her eyes flitting in Delsin's direction, and then returning to the mesmerizing shine.

"Hey, it's okay," Delsin reassured her, "he's just got to blow off some steam."

"Yeah… How did you find me?" Abigail asked, turning towards him. "I've been pretty good at covering my tracks."

"Well, when you kidnapped a DUP cadet, you kind of set off a bunch of alarms…" Delsin trailed off, realizing how dubious he sounded.

Abigail's face twisted into a scowl and light started leaking out of her fingertips. "Oh, yeah?" she said, eyes ablaze with fury. "Set off alarms  _where_?"

"That's not what I-" Delsin started to say before a wave of light burst out from Fetch and slammed into him. He let himself go limp as he flew into the neon  _Brewery_  sign, which shattered under the impact. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fetch dissolve into light and streak toward him. He shifted up before she reached him, and grabbed her hand as she slowed down and solidified.

A light exploded behind Delsin's eyes, and he grunted as his grip tightened on Fetch's hand, which she was trying to pull away. Fetch's face started to fade as Delsin felt himself being sucked in, and then he blacked out as a river of images slammed into him.

:::

Delsin groaned as he rolled over and pushed himself up to his feet. He noticed Fetch sitting on a support beam for a sign a few feet away, her knees curled up to her chest, rocking back and forth, eyes on him. She stood as he walked over. "What are you?" she asked. "What- what did you do to my  _head_?"

"I don't know," Delsin admitted. "Something happened to me- some guy had crashed a DUP transport, and somehow, I got powers from him."

"So what, you're saying you're Rogue?" Fetch said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Yeah, don't buy it."

"Well…" Delsin lifted a finger, then concentrated. A small spurt of smoke shot into the air. Looking around, he noticed the destroyed  _Brewery_ sign. He jogged over, and tried to find any remaining traces of neon. Sensing some, he drew it to him, and then turned back around. Fetch was staring at him with confusion and a growing look of fear. Delsin closed his eyes, focusing on the images circling in his head. His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he dashed over to Fetch, dematerializing into streaks of light and gas. He stopped right in front of her and solidified.

"Wha- how did you  _do_  that?" she stammered, eyes wide.

Delsin grinned. "Saw you do it. What do you say we go take down some Orka?"

:::

_1 hour later_

"Come on, Laser Girl," Delsin said through clenched teeth as he paced back and forth, eyeing the docks, the power pushing at him like a wave. "Got people to see, and powers to steal..."

The duo had separated at Denny Park, Fetch going off to God knew where. That had been about 40 minutes ago.

His phone started beeping with a call from Fetch. He tapped the  _Answer_  icon.

"Okay, promise you won't be mad," Fetch said, "but the good news is you can start without me."

"Oh, face the danger alone? Gee, that  _is_  good news." Delsin said sarcastically, jumping off of the building's edge and landing with a dull thud, startling a few passing people.

"Listen, I found out a major drug shipment came in a couple days ago and it's stored on some boats there at the marina," Fetch informed him.

"Alright, on some boats at a marina," Delsin repeated. "That's all the details I need."

"It's a big shipment, so it'll probably be houseboats," Fetch elaborated. "And this group uses dolphins as sort of their mark, so I'd look for anything on a boat with a dolphin on it."

"Better," Delsin remarked.

"But  _don't_  wait for me," she said quickly. "You'll never know when they'll start unloading that stuff."

Delsin dashed up the side of a building to get a better vantage point. "So, what held you up?" he asked.

"Girl stuff," Fetch replied.

"Ewww, what kind of 'girl stuff'?"

"Putting some serious hurt on this drug-dealing scumbag until he sold out his friends and told me all about this goddamn drug shipment," she retorted, and hung up.

Delsin ran over to a smoking vent and drew the burning embers into himself. The old, familiar beast settled back in, and he leapt off the edge, forcing the energy out of his arms and gliding down slowly.

"So, you at the docks, yet?" Fetch asked impatiently.

Delsin sighed exasperatedly. "Take it easy, okay? I'm enjoying the journey."

"Well,  _journey_  to the goddamn docks."

Delsin ran forward and up the steps to the wooden walkways of the docks. Spotting a neon anchor sign, he drained it and ran ahead. "Fetch," he said, "I'm on the docks."

"And I'm here on the roof," she replied. "What, you couldn't wait a few more minutes?"

He sighed as he jumped up onto the roof of a shack. "This is why I hate working with girls."

As soon as Delsin hit the ground, a hail of bullets started coming at him. He ran back the way he came, tossing out a grenade, then doubled back around and started shooting at a pair of thugs firing in the shadows, weaving to avoid the laser of a sniper rifle. Running up to one of the duo, he unfurled his chain, neon light running through it, making it rigid and edged like a lightsaber, and slashed him until he flew off the edge of the walkway, then did the same to his partner. He ran back, turned, and slashed at a third gang member, taking him down.

Running back the way he came, Delsin transformed into streaks of light and ran up the side of a shack, landing on the roof, then running off. He spotted a couple of orangish-red coolers with a blue-white porpoise over an anchor on the front. Lifting up the lid of one, he took stock of a bunch of packages wrapped in white plastic and duct-taped, with a few dark baggies of hash.

"Yeah, drugs," he confirmed, jumping up to the roof. "Hey, Fetch, I'm going to tag all the boats with drugs to make it easier for you to know which ones to take out." He dropped to the small patio of the shack.

He tagged the building with a picture of a red and white lollipop as Fetch asked in exasperation, "Man, can't you ever go, like,  _five minutes_  without tagging stuff?"

"There you go, made it easy for you," Delsin replied as he jumped back onto the walkway.

There was a pounding on the door behind him, so Delsin turned around and ran back, ignoring the barrage of shots hitting his back. He tried to open the door, but it was locked, so he wrenched it open. A couple of women stumbled out of the tiny house and ran down the docks toward the street, screaming their heads off as bullets missed them by centimeters.

"Hey, Fetch, you didn't tell me there would be girls at this party," Delsin said as the dealers poured clip after clip at him, the majority of their shots missing him completely.

"So I heard," Fetch responded as he took a few thugs down, neon ropes binding them tightly. "Dealers must be using their hookers as human shields."

Delsin ignored the rest of the Orkas, pausing only for the occasional sniper. "So, they're, what, using them as collateral to keep the cops and DUPs off their operations?"

"Exactly," Fetch said. Delsin could almost feel her small grin from wherever she was.

He found three more porpoise houseboats, one of which had a hooker, who fled from a dazed, groping thug inside the houseboat. Delsin took him down with a single shot to the groin, smirking as the criminal's eyes bulged with shock and pain and he fell over, clutching himself as the neon restraints did their thing.

Delsin went up to the patio and tagged the houseboat with a picture of a terrier with a red and white target in its mouth. Jumping down, he repeated the process with the last houseboat, tagging it with a picture of him, arms upraised, with a target on his head.

"Uh-oh," Fetch gulped into his ear, "looks like we stirred up a hornet's nest back here at the warehouse."

"Com-ing," he replied, clambering back down to the walkway and firing a few shots at the wave of thugs coming at him. Feeling the pulse inside him intensify, Delsin screwed his eyes shut, bent his knees, drew in his arms and released. He could feel the shockwave as the thugs cried out in shock, then he opened his eyes. He was hovering a few feet above the ground, and the army of thugs that was coming to attack him were turning slowly in mid-air, completely helpless. Grinning, Delsin crossed his arms and swung them out, firing a stream of neon bolts out in a fan, hitting arms, legs, and chests. He dropped down as a series of explosions filled his eyes, and the thugs dropped to the walkway, bound tightly.

"Damn, dude, whatever that was, I heard it from here," Fetch said with a hint of awe.

"Glad I could impress." Turning his gaze on the rooftop of the warehouse, Delsin saw the few thugs that remained hold their hands up in the air, shuffling fearfully. He dashed over and subdued them, ignoring their cries of thanks.

"Y'know, it was a lucky thing you were able to let those women free before we blow up the boats here," Fetch said as he dashed out onto the street and up the side of a building.

"No kidding," he replied as he jumped up onto the roof, noticing her as he dropped down.

"Ready?" she asked rhetorically. "Let's light up the bay." Delsin watched as she put her hands together like she was about to do some move out of Dragon Ball Z, then fired reddish-pink lasers at the marked boats, blowing them to kingdom come.

"Well, that's three less evil porpoise boats in the world," he smirked, turning to Fetch.

"No, those were dolphins," she scowled, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm  _sure_  they're dolphins."

"Nope, those were clearly porpoises. It's a common mistake."

"Sure, ' _common mistake_ '," she mimicked, grinning at his words.

"So, shall we storm the castle, milady?"

"Okay, first off, you  _suck_  at medieval accents," she pointed out, smile widening at his look of mock dismay. "Second off, we should probably wait 'em out. Make 'em come to us."

"Oh,  _good_ , 'sit and wait', my favorite strategy."

"Yeah, well, just don't expect me to pass the time with stories," she said.

"Aw, but you'd be so good at it."

"No, now shut up and keep an eye on the street."

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed, the right side of his lips tugging up.

:::

_30 minutes later_

Delsin lifted up his beanie to watch the street for the 9th time in the past half-hour. Abigail had promised him that the suppliers would be there soon, but he had assumed that would mean in five minutes or so, not  _six times_ that.

"Chill, D," Abigail said. "God, you're so- " She stopped abruptly.

"What?" he asked, twisting his head up and to the side to look at her. Fetch was staring past him, fists clenched and face twisted into a savage blend of rage and joy. Delsin followed her gaze to a sky blue and white storage truck.  _Ah_ , he realized,  _the suppliers_.

Suddenly, Fetch dashed past him, down to the adjacent building. He jumped down to her level and followed her as she zigzagged over the rooftops and onto the sides of buildings, keeping a close eye on the truck.

After a few blocks, the truck finally pulled into an alley leading to a parking lot. Delsin slowed to a stop and eyed the area, Fetch doing the same. "So, what's the plan?" he whispered.

"Uh, get 'em?"

" 'Get 'em' isn't a plan," he said as she dashed down to the asphalt. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Delsin jumped off the building, gathering some neon into his fist, and slammed into the ground, knocking back the motley collection of Orka thugs and dealers gathered around Fetch. He subdued a few of them, then kicked the ones who got up until they fell unconscious.

Hearing a scream of "Help! Help!", Delsin looked around in panic. Eyes settling on the truck, he dashed toward the back and lifted up the back door. There were a few hookers huddled inside, tear- and mascara-streaked faces lighting up at the glimpse of their savior.

"Alright, ladies. C'mon, let's go. Yes, the bad men are gone," Delsin reassured them, ushering them out of their former cage. "Go, live, love… just not professionally." Shaking his head, he sat down on the edge of the truck, as Fetch called after them from the roof, "If you want to get clean, now's the time. There won't be any more drugs on the streets.  _Don't screw it up!_  Aaand they're gone."

Delsin stroked his fist with his other hand, thinking, while Abigail ran around the side of the truck. "D' you think a couple of 'low-life Bioterrorists' will  _ever_  get thanked for saving people?" he wondered aloud as she leaned against the side of the truck and stared at the glaring white  _SWAG_ sign across the street.

"Yeah…" she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing at him. "I think you might'a saved me."

The pair looked at each other for a moment before Abigail looked away, grinning, and walked a few steps ahead.

"Oh, so, what," Delsin said, standing up and walking to her, "you're going to give up your whole 'serial killer streak' of murdering drug dealers? That's, like, half your charm."

The two turned to face each other. "Oh, yeah?" Abigail said playfully. "What's the other half?"

"Actually, that was it," Delsin admitted. "Your… just the one… charm." Mentally, he kicked himself.  _Smooth, Del,_ real _smooth._

"Don't worry," she reassured him, sidling up to him and placing her hands on his vest. "I'm not giving up my passions… just finding some new ones." She looked up at him.

Delsin felt his heart thumping in his chest. He waited for a moment, then Abigail punched him in the abdomen. "Ohhh…" he grunted.

"Like boxing," she said, turning back and climbing into the truck.

"Ow," he said, turning around. "Was that, like, your whole attempt at a tender moment? Ahh… you are a sentimental psychopath, aren't you?"

"C'mon," she said, beckoning him forward, "let's just get the rest of these drugs in the harbor. Maybe we can get a few fish strung out."

"Man, hook a dolphin!" he joked, grunting as he climbed in and started helping.

"Hey!"

"You like me."

:::

Abigail laughed and crouched down to unzip a bag, then paused and turned her head to the side, trying to catch his eye. She ran a hand through her hair and smiled at a thought. Turning back around, she tapped Delsin on the shoulder. "Hey, want to stay at my place for the night?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, I  _do_  have a loft. I mean, it's a bit trashed at the moment, and the person-" She stopped as Luke's words ran through her mind. "Y'know what, just follow me." She jumped out the back of the truck and dashed off towards, barely hearing Delsin's calls of "Hey, wait up! I just need to blow this thing up first. Girls…"

:::

_An hour and a half later_

Delsin slowed, solidifying, as he saw Abigail kneeling on the outcropping covering the monorail stop for the Crocodile. He walked up behind her and swung his legs over the side, kicking his feet. "So, who's 'the person'?"

Abigail paused for a moment, fear shooting through her coffee eyes, and then she relaxed and scooted closer to him. "His name was Luke," she murmured, eyes downcast. "We used to work together."

"Huh," Delsin said, rubbing his chin. "What was he like?"

"He was…" Abigail paused again, eyes full of pain. "He was a great guy: smart, cool-headed, bit of a jokester. We met about two years ago. I'd just escaped from some DUPs in Boston and was hiding out in a billboard-" she scowled as Delsin laughed for a second before covering his mouth with both hands, eyes crinkling- "don't laugh, it was the best I could find! Anyways, I'd been using it as a sniper's nest, picking off the DUPs and their informants, when some random guy looked up and saw me. Of course, me being the 'sentimental psychopath' I am, I tried to shoot his head off." Delsin smirked, trying to imagine Abigail living in a billboard/ sniper's nest

"Somehow," she said, "I missed, so I came down to finish the job. Only problem was, when I got down to the street, one of the DUP's damn surveillance cameras spotted me and started blaring the alarm. So, while I was trying to off this guy, these DUPs were trying to off  _me_. They almost got me, but the guy fought 'em off, and I finished them."

"So, nice story, but how does that relate to Luke?"

"The guy was  _Luke_ , dumbass. I ran away after we'd fought that squad, out of Boston, but he tracked me down. Said he wanted to team up, take down the DUPs with me. I said no, but he stuck to me like jelly. Luke helped me find places to live in the cities the DUPs were in, targets to hit, how to shoot better. After a while, we started to live and travel together. He was the closest thing I had to a brother after Brent—" She paused again and began to cry, dark streams running down her cheeks.

Delsin moved to her side and rested his arm across Abigail's back. "He OD'd, right?"

"Yeah," she said, sniffling. "I came home one afternoon, and he was just lying there on his bed, my dad's old shotgun on the floor, a hole in his chest and blood on his arm. I guess he just couldn't take being the son of a traitor. I ran away after that. Don't know what happened to Mom, but hopefully she's safe, wherever she is."

"Anyways, Luke and I got here about three weeks ago. A few days after we arrived, Luke got word of a few thugs dealing H down near Skid Row. I immediately went to deal with them, but they drugged me with some sort of hallucinogen and took me to the Crocodile. They forced me to do things there-" she shuddered, closing her eyes for a moment- "Terrible things. A day or two later, one of the Crocodile's managers, Killian Czalov, came into my room for his daily 'massage'. I kneed him in the crotch and ran for it. I got back to our apartment two hours later, explained everything to Luke, and so, here we are."

"Damnit," Delsin said, gritting his teeth and hands balling into fists. "I'm so sorry, Abigail."

"It's okay, D," she whispered, "just don't leave me like he did. Please?"

"Never. What happened to Luke?"

She laughed bitterly, eyes lifting to stare at a loft littered with shards of glass across from the pair. "After you stopped me from killing that DUP spy, I came back to our loft-" she pointed to the windowless apartment- "and we argued. I was panicking, but he was so calm, like some sort of statue. He'd already packed his things, and I was trying to understand what he was doing. He grabbed my shoulders and told me the truth." She shuddered again, rubbing her arms. "He said that he was a spy for the DUP."

"Shit," Delsin swore.

"Yeah," she said with grim humor, "that's an understatement."

"I'm so sorry, Abigail," he apologized. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her tight to his chest.

"Don't be," she reassured him, hand resting on his shirt. "Just… stay the night?"

"Of course."

:::

Delsin stretched as he jogged towards the Art Museum in the gray morning light, Enter Shikari's "Constellations" humming in his ears. He'd woken up next to Abigail in her loft a few hours before, and after dressing, he ruffled her hair, kissed her goodbye and jumped down to the street, startling a few people, before blending into the slowly-swelling stream and setting out.

The song faded out, replaced by the trill of a ringtone. He lifted his hand and pressed the  _Answer_  button. "Hello?"

"Hey, just woke up." Abigail said in a dazed voice. "You were gone."

"Yeah," he replied, "just going for a jog."

"Oh, yeah? And what does that have that I don't?"

"Uh, DUPs, drug dealers, things like that?"

He heard her sigh. "You guys, all after the same thing."

"By the way," he interjected as he passed by a couple of early-morning runners, "I think your brother would have been real proud of what you did."

"You mean, killing the dealers, destroying the drugs, and freeing the sex slaves, right?"

"Of course! Although I'm sure he would have loved me, too."

She laughed. "Yeah, I think if he'd seen me with those boats and drugs and dealers, he'd have been proud of his kid sis."

"Yeah, definitely," he agreed.

"We done good, D. Come by sometime, I'll teach you a few tricks."

"Will do, Laser Girl," he said, and pressed the button again, ending the call.


	14. XII

XII

Delsin restrained the last dealer guarding the drug stash just as his phone started ringing. He tapped the  _Answer_  button as he chucked a stasis grenade at the stash and streaked a safe distance away. "Hello?"

"Hey, Delsin," Mrs. Napier's disembodied voice said through his earbud, "I just got-" - her voice was drowned out by the sound of the stash going sky-high- "- an explosion in the Lantern District. Weird thing, though- it sounds like there's a lot of smoke around the area."

"Huh," Delsin muttered. "That  _is_  weird."

"Yeah. Anyways," Mrs. Napier continued, "it looks like the only way you can get there is the 520 bridge, but the Dupes have "appropriated" it."

"Ah, the gauntlet," he smirked. "Shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"Hope you've-" Mrs. Napier's voice faded to a ring. Delsin took his phone out of his vest, saw the caller sign read  _Reggie_ , and tapped  _Answer_  again, sighing. "Yeah, bro, what's up?"

"I got an alert-"

"Yeah," Mrs. Napier interrupted, "I already told him about it."

"Who is this?" Reggie asked, voice dripping dangerous suspicion. "Delsin?"

"Reggie," Delsin said in an exasperated tone, "it's fine. This is Mrs. Napier. She helped with- Esther."

"Oh." His brother's tone shifted from "paranoid cop" to "fake-nice newbie". "Hi. I guess you already know who I am, Mrs. Napier."

"Yeah," she agreed quickly. "I was just telling your brother about the incident in the Lantern District."

"About that," Delsin said. "Reggie, you got any leads from your boys?"

"Okay,  _first off_ , I don't have  _boys_ ," Reggie said, "okay? Second, yeah, I've got a few things."

"Okay, then, lay them on me."

:::

Delsin ran his eyes over the wall of concrete, gauging the amount of shit that would hit the proverbial fan when he got to the top. He heard a little  _fzzt_ through the soft patter of rain hitting the rooftop and twisted to see Abigail a few feet away, feet scuffing the edge of the building as she looked down on the . "Hey," he said, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hi," she said, looking at him. She shuffled over and stared at the wall. "So that's what you needed me for? Don't see the problem."

"Yeah, well, tell that to the Dupes on the other side."

"Ah, okay," she said. "I think I see what you're getting at. So, what's the plan?"

"Well, I was thinking we get up there, you do your little 'laser sniper' bit, while  _I_  go down there and keep them busy."

"Yeah… that sucks."

"What? That's a great plan."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Nope."

He threw his hands up. "Fine, what d'you suggest we do, get arrested?"

"Actually…"

:::

Corporal Abram Reuter licked his lips and shuffled in place. The sound of waves washing over the steel support cables of the Evergreen Point Bridge behind him was driving him crazy.

 _Shit, I need to take a piss,_  he thought.

He was about to request a short reprieve when he saw a wisp of whitish-grey come out from the alleyway. Glancing around, he noted that everyone else was preoccupied, then started walking over to the entrance.

Reuter unholstered his Glock, keeping it close to his ear as he slid up against the wall. He glanced into the darkened alley, and, seeing a flash of red and grey, stepped out of hiding, gun extended. "Hey, you!" he shouted at the red-beanied person's back.

The owner and current wearer of the beanie froze. A faint rattling noise came from his right hand.

Reuter raised a mental eyebrow.  _That's weird,_ he thought.  _Thought we got rid of all the taggers._

"Turn around," he barked at the mystery tagger's back. "Slowly!"

"Okay, man. Whatever you say."

The tagger turned around at a snail's pace, but there was no mistaking the voice. Reuter had watched the footage of the John Street incident enough times to notice him anywhere.

Reuter rushed at Delsin Rowe and slammed him against the pavement. "Show me your hands, Rowe!" he shouted at the Conduit, putting his gun at the base of the skull. "Now, before I blow your goddamned brains out!"

:::

Delsin grimaced as the concrete restraints covering his hands shrunk, making the small, but bulky, GPS transmitter dig painfully into his palm.

He and Fetch (well, actually,  _Fetch_ ) had agreed that while the "guns blazing" plan might work for a little while, getting "arrested" would almost certainly guarantee a quick access to the 520, as well as a lot less "health hazards". Of course, being the paranoid laser-girl she was, Fetch gave him the transmitter, explaining: "It'll be easier for me to shoot them cuffs off ya; besides, I can't afford to lose- lose anyone else, 'specially not the guy who's gonna take the Dupes out." He could still feel that last parting kiss on his cheek, the memory making him smile for a minute.

"Move, Rowe!" The Dupe behind him slammed the butt of the assault rifle into his shoulder. Pain flared up in the general area of the strike as Delsin stumbled forward, shooting his captor a glare as he recovered.

"C'mon, Rowe," the Dupe said, a sneer coming through his voice (and gas mask) loud and clear. "Give me a reason."

Delsin turned around, sighing and shaking his head slightly, and trudged forward. The massive wall of concrete loomed over him, casting deep shadows on the entrance to the bridge.

He blinked. One of the shadows in front of him almost looked like- like it had moved out of its old position.

"I said,  _move!_ " Delsin tried to duck, but the rifle butt still hit him at a glancing blow, dazing him. He collapsed to the ground, vaguely aware of the muffled cursing above him and the scraping of stone against stone. He was roughly hauled back to his feet and dragged forward, against the cool wind rushing past, for what seemed like an eternity, before being dropped like a sack of rocks on the rough floor.

Delsin's head lolled around, and he could feel a few teeth loosen in his mouth. As the metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth, he coughed, and opened his eyes to see a slate-haired man in a long black trenchcoat and dust-colored cargo pants staring at him blankly. The man blinked his dusty irises.

"Hey, man, I think you got me mix-" His breath whooshed out as the Dupe beside him kicked him in the ribs, hard. He heard something snap, and let out an agonized laugh as his eyes screwed shut, angry tears welling up between the seams.  
"No, Mr. Rowe." The slate man continued to stare at him unblinkingly, unnervingly. "We've been watching you for quite some time now.  _Years_. Ever since the accident."

Delsin's head snapped back up, but the man remained blank.

" _What did you DO_?!" Delsin screamed at him. He forced himself to his feet, careless of the SMGs, the concrete cuffs crushing his hands, everything but the demon before him.

"I did nothing, Mr. Rowe." The formal, robotic tone made Delsin's eyes redden. "Rather, it's my  _associate_  that you desire."

The man gestured at the shadowed area behind him. The grey shifted, then a man walked out of the dark. He dusted off his tan leather jacket, then looked at Delsin, some dark amusement lighting up his face.

"Well, I'll be damned," he smirked, lips upturning at his own self-conscious jest. "Let me introduce myself. Isaac Carey. I'm the man who offed your dear mom and dad."

:::

Fetch kicked her foot against the edge of the D.U.P. billboard, trying to tear off a small edge of paper that was flapping wildly in the wind. She glanced up at the pastel sky, the lilacs and tans giving way higher up to darkening stormclouds.

 _D should have come out by now._  The thought had been nagging at her for the past 10 minutes.

She squinted on the entrance again, but there was no movement from the Dupes guarding it. Gritting her teeth, Fetch fumbled around in her jacket until she found her Lumia 800, then pulled it out and dialed the last person in the world she wanted to talk to.

"Hey,  _Abigail_." She ground her teeth at the elder Rowe's mention of her first name. "What's up?"

"Has Delsin called you recently?" She said it too quickly, and her words jumbled together, a squeaking lump of syllables. Cursing her subtly panicked tone, she cleared her throat and continued. "I mean, he hasn't come out of the bridge yet…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Fetch wanted to shove them back down, but there they hung, heavy and stewing under the sunset.

" _What?!_ " She bit her lip as Reggie started to rant against her.

"How could you  _let_  them take him? They'll  _kill_  him as soon as they get what they need from him!"

"I know, Reggie, I know," she whispered, hot, angry tears starting to trail down her cheeks.

"God _damnit!_ " Fetch heard the sound of glass shattering against a brick wall, then the grunt and wet thud of flesh that followed. Panting came through the speakers pressed against her chin, soft mutterings of "... the hell, Del? Why.." and "...get him back. I've got to get him back."

She remained silent, tense and worried, as Reggie got his emotions in check. Then: "Okay, okay. We can't storm the bridge, too many troops for that. I might be able to get across normally, but if they get my fingerprints, it's over. Unless…"

Fetch felt a sharp jab of pain between her shoulder blades as the tension stretched to the breaking point. "What do you mean. 'unless'?" she hissed.

"Well, the only way we can get across relatively safe and sound is if I-  _ahem_ \- arrest you."

The rope snapped.

_2 hours later_

Reggie wiped his brow as the truck crept closer to the 502 entrance. His back was aching from the constant collision between his seat and Abigail's feet. Glancing back for a moment, he looked over the black-striped straitjacket and the "tranquilizers" sticking out of her neck, avoiding her loathful glare.

"Just shut up until they start to process you, okay?" he muttered to her. "And  _try_  to act drugged."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Copman," she sneered. "Just give me a second to look like a helpless little Bioterrorist."

He returned his focus to the road ahead of him.  _This isn't going to work, Reg. They'll see through your little trick and kill you._

"Piss off," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"You say something?"

"No. Now, would you kindly  _shut it_?

"Fine. Yeesh…"

:::

Delsin's vision was tinged in red, blood pulsing through his skull in a dull roar. Three Dupes had their M16s trained on his head, ready to blow him away at a single, threatening twitch.

Carey chuckled at the mimic Conduit's predicament. "Weren't expecting that little tidbit, were you? Y'see,  _Del_ \- can I call you Del? Yeah- anyways, your parents weren't exactly the great "paragons of justice" that you and Reggie thought they were. No, no, they were oh so much  _worse_."

"Shut up," Delsin gritted out.

Carey paid no heed and continued: "Yeah, they were the best shots I'd seen in a  _long_  time. Your mother could blow six IDS troops' heads off in less than a minute, and your old man…" He chuckled. "Man, your dad was the most hardcore  _badass_  I've ever seen. Busting heads in with lead pipes, chucking Molotovs… damn shame."

"Shut your goddamned mouth!" Delsin shouted. "You didn't care about them, or what they could do; all they were to you was a  _job._ "

Carey scratched his chin. "Hmmm… Yeah, I suppose you're right. But then again, what'd you expect? Huh, Del? I'm a  _mercenary_ ; it's part of the job description." He grinned. "But hey, at least now I don't have to-"

He was cut short by the blaring of klaxons. The man in the trenchcoat looked up, a flicker of irritation twisting his apathetic features into a sneer for a split second. He turned to the squad surrounding Delsin, pointed at the crimson hallway for a moment. The Dupes nodded at their superior, then rushed back towards the doorway.

"Come, Mr. Rowe," the man said. He gestured at Delsin's legs, encasing them in concrete shards, then turned and started walking away, dragging the mimic Conduit with him.

:::

Reggie ducked behind one of the roadblocks the D.U.P. had set up, cursing the neon streak that shot past.

"Damnit, Fetch," he shouted to no one in particular, "don't you think you could've waited until we'd gotten  _inside_ , at least?"

She materialized and crouched next to him, eyes wild and bullet holes in her straitjacket. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, giving him a mock pout. "Forgot about the  _freaking assault rifles_! Can't do this little rescue attempt if I'm dead, now can I?"

Reggie gave a frustrated sigh, then involuntarily ducked and fell back, swearing, as a blast of concrete shards punched through the barrier a few centimeters from his face. "You know you just made our 'little rescue attempt' a  _hell_  of a lot harder, right?!" he shouted. He poked his head up to see the ten or so D.U.P. soldiers snapping fresh magazines back into their SCAR rifles.

"Relax,  _Reginald_." She rolled her eyes. "This'll be done in a few seconds, okay?"

Reggie shot her a glance, then looked away from the bright light surrounding her hands, the sound of lasers filling his ears.  _Whatever the hell she's trying to do, she'd better do it_ fast _,_  he thought.

"Better hang onto somethin', Reg!"

Reggie's ears pulsed a deafening beat as he grabbed onto a pipe sticking out of the ground, wincing as the shards of concrete around his little anchor dug into the back of his hands. He strained his neck to the left just in time to see Fetch chuck the ball of neon light at the D.U.P. troops, then felt his ears  _pop_  as a dull roar and the faint sounds of screams replaced the back, he focused on his makeshift "anchor", gripping onto it with both hands as he felt himself being simultaneously lifted back and up. Reggie dared a glance back, saw the pinkish-white vortex, and fought the sudden urge to vomit, his stomach doing barrel rolls.

Then, just as soon as it had appeared, the vortex exploded, scattering unconscious D.U.P. troops and uprooted barricades everywhere. Reggie released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, then shot a glare at Fetch, who was rubbing her hands together as she looked over her handiwork, a satisfied look on her face.

Noticing Reggie's stare out of the corner of her eye, Fetch turned to him, satisfaction morphing into a perplexed expression. "What?"

Reggie let out another frustrated sigh. "You really don't do  _subtle_ , do you?"

"Hey, man, it's either them or me," she replied, shoulders coming up in a shrugging motion. "Gotta hit hard and fast; no other way to do it."

Reggie shook his head and looked away, grumbling.

Fetch shuffled around for a few moments, then: "C'mon, Reggie. Let's go get our little vandal."

:::

Delsin thrashed against his restraints again, hope draining away to a miniscule pinpoint. Trench, as Delsin had chosen to name him, kept his face straight ahead, feet marching at a clipped pace; the only thing that dissuaded the mimic Conduit from the idea that he was a robot was the constantly clenching and unclenching gloved fist that was sending streaks of pain through his captive's legs.

They emerged from the shadowy fortress made of rusting shipping containers and concrete walls into blinding light. Delsin squinted, trying to see where he was, before his eyes sharply adjusted and he gasped. "What the hell?"

Spread out before him was a virtual sea of grey: concrete statues, varied in size and look. There were thousands of them: jagged, hunch-backed humanoids with hulking fists and neckless heads, a jagged hole in the center of the featureless face, thin "hooded" figures, arms tapering to needle-sharp points, some sort of Iron Man copycat, and others too strange or terrifying for Delsin to comprehend.

"Came up with the idea for these things about three years ago," Trench murmured beside him, a hint of pride in his voice. "If you think the Terracotta Army was impressive, just imagine building  _four times_  that in a matter of  _minutes_."

Delsin gaped, at once impressed and disturbed by the implications. Tens of  _thousands_  of artificial soldiers. There was no stopping them, no way to curb the tsunami. It was then, bound and staring at the facts laid out before him, that he realized the hopelessness of the situation.  _How do you fight against something this massive?_

Finally, he tore his eyes away, heart pounding. He could feel Trench's impassive eyes on him, but he refused to look at him, to look at his abject failure. He failed them: Reggie, Fetch, his parents… Esther.

_I'm sorry._

A flash of pink caught Delsin's eye, and he twisted his body to see Abigail standing a few feet away, clothes still glowing with neon light. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of her friend bound hand and foot, and her hands clenched into white-hot fists. "Let him go."

Trench turned, face inscrutable. "Hello, Ms. Walker. It's so good to see you again."

 _Again?_  Delsin thought.  _What the hell is he talking about?_

"Let him go," Fetch repeated in a low voice. Raising her fist, she continued: "Let him go, or get a laser to the face, you crazy bastard. I don't even know you!"

"Oh, you do, Ms. Walker. Don't you remember? You, me, and  _Shane_."

Abigail's face went slack for a moment, then twisted into a mixture of cold rage, helpless terror, and numb resignation before changing back. "Hello, Mr. Mason, sir. What do you want me to do?"

Mason glanced at Delsin's shocked face for a moment, then his lips turned up in a sly smile."Take Mr. Rowe here to the island. Keep him bound."

"Yes, sir." Abigail's voice was monotone, robotic.

"Fetch! What the hell did I say?!"

Delsin paled as Reggie drew closer, stepping out of the containers' shadows. "Reg…"

Something in his tone gave Reggie pause, and his hand dropped to the holstered pistol on his hip. "Delsin, what's going on?"

"Reggie, get back. Fetch-"

" _Ms. Walker_  isn't herself at the moment, Sheriff Rowe." Mason looked the elder brother over once, twice, before nodding. "Ms. Walker?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Kill him." Mason turned away, probably already putting the murder out of his head, and looked towards the setting sun as Fetch turned and began walking towards Reggie, who was backing away, fear in his eyes.

"Abigail-" Delsin started to say, struggling against his bindings. He was cut short by a hissing sound.

Mason turned back abruptly, eyes widening and mouth gaping open. "No."

A canister arced through the air, landing about a foot or so from Delsin. A few seconds later, it began spewing thick white smoke everywhere. He swore he could feel when the concrete encasing his arms began to weaken and crumble; within seconds, the restraints were gone.

Delsin drew in some of the smoke, ignoring the strange feeling he got everytime he changed powers, then dashed after Fetch, who had backed Reggie up against a container and was closing in for the kill. His brother's face was one of abject terror and unwilling acceptance, eyes closed and fingers interlaced.

Delsin slowed for a moment, took aim, and fired. A smoke shot hit the back of Fetch's head with a dull  _pfff_ , enveloping her head. Delsin tackled her to the ground moments later, holding her in a bear hug as she coughed and choked on the sulfur and tear gas. "Abigail, snap out of it! Please!"

"No, no, no!" Mason screamed.

Delsin could feel the concrete creeping up his legs again, but he held on. After what she'd gone through, there was no way he was letting her go ever again.

He closed his eyes, feeling the cold, hard shell cover his back, touch his neck. "We take care of our own," he whispered.

The last thing he heard before darkness consumed him was Reggie screaming his name.

:::

His body tingled.

Delsin groaned., arching his back, then stopped as a wave of pain. He could feel, could hear. He cracked open an eyelid, then shut it again. The light was blinding, so different from the suffocating blackness.

"He's awake." The voice was unfamiliar, yet Delsin sensed a note of kindness and concern behind it. Tempted, he cracked open his eyelid again, adjusting to the light in a few moments.

A middle-aged black man in a brown-stained lab coat glanced at him for a minute, then went back to preparing a strange blackish-green solution. Satisfied after a few more minutes, he poured the mixture into a beat-up metal coffee mug and walked over to Delsin. "Drink this. It'll help speed up the healing process."

"What?" Delsin tried to get up, surprised that his arms were unbound, then grunted as a stab of pain went through his abdomen. The ache subsided in moments. Sitting up with a little bit of difficulty, the mimic Conduit reached out and grabbed the cup from the man. He sniffed at it, then shot a suspicious glare at the man.

The man met his gaze evenly. "I'm a doctor, and trust me when I say, you're going to need all of that stuff that you can get."

"Thanks," he muttered, still not completely convinced. Still, his throat burned like hell, so he took a sip of the strange concoction. Almost immediately, the pain stopped, washed away with the forest green liquid.

Delsin drank a little more, then cupped the cool metal container. "Where am I?" he asked softly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Logan Jones," the man replied with a gleam in his eye, "and you,  _mon ami_ , are at the headquarters of the ICA. Welcome to the resistance."


	15. XIII

XIII

" 'ey! Banner Man!"

Delsin groaned in equal parts discomfort and irritation and twisted to see Glueck's half-smirking, half-grinning face. "What do you want, Eilís?"

"Nothin' much." She shrugged, grin widening. "Jus' want ta-"

"Glueck."

Eilís blanched, then rose from the bedside chair, turned around, and darted away, leaving a short gust of warmed air and a flurry of paper in her wake.

Jones spared a glance back at her, then swung back to look at Delsin. His cacao eyes were quickly shifting from annoyed endearment to mirthful concern. "I swear, if Sam wasn't friends with that girl…" He sighed.

"Yeah," Delsin responded, chapped lips starting to crack again as he attempted to grin.

"Here." Jones skirted around the slightly musty cot that served as a "hospital bed", and, reaching the yellowed pitcher and Dixie cup set on the bedside table, poured a glass of water. He quickly replaced the pitcher, letting the soft  _plunk-plunk-plunk_  of dripping resume, and knelt next to Delsin. "Drink," he commanded, lifting the younger man's head so that he could get at the water.

Delsin choked it down, sore throat soothed by the cool liquid. He glanced at Jones, who was watching the browned tarp of the right wall with narrowed eyes, then looked in the same direction. A shadow was approaching, the soft swish of fabric on the floor barely audible.

Delsin's eyes widened, and he could feel the cold weight of stone on his legs again, the crushing pressure of cement around his hands. He drew in a quick breath, then another, and another.  _Mr. Rowe_ …

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and jerked away with an animal cry of fear. Jones was looking at him with a furrowed brow. "Delsin?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he mumbled quietly.

Jones opened his mouth, about to say something when the tarnished steel door in front of the duo opened.

"Reggie!" Delsin almost bolted out of bed, but the intense wave of pain that ran through his abdomen forced him back.

"Delsin! Don't do that!" Reggie quickly walked over to his brother's side, placing a hand on his other shoulder and pushing him back onto the "bed". He looked over at Jones, bowed his head slightly, then looked back to Delsin. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Reg."

"No, he's not."

Reggie looked at Jones, a confused look on his face. "What do you mean, Doctor?"

"He was terrified a minute ago. He saw your shadow-" - he gestured at the bed sheet wrapped around Delsin's body - " and started hyperventilating."

" _What?_ " Reggie turned his head back to Delsin. "What the hell happened?"

"I… I…" Delsin was speechless. He couldn't remember. At the very most, all he could come up with was a single word:  _Mason_.

"Delsin?"

"I don't remember, Reg." He covered his face with his hands, trying to force the tears back inside. "The only thing I remember is  _Mason_."

Reggie huffed, sounding exasperated. "That's not possible, Del."

"Actually," Jones interjected, his tone corrective, yet timid, "it's been proven that while repressed memories don't actually exist, the mind can narrow focus on a certain subject and ignore extraneous details. So, while Delsin hasn't actually forgotten what happened, his mind is simply not organized enough at the moment to know all of what happened."

Reggie stared at Jones with an incredulous expression.

After a few moments of the unofficial staring contest had gone by, Jones threw his hands up in exasperation. "He doesn't want to remember at the moment, alright?"

Reggie nodded, pursing his lips together, before glancing back at his little brother, who watched on with furrowed brow. "What is it, Del?"

"What happened to Abi-" -He stopped himself, wiping at his eyes and taking a deep breath, before continuing- "Fetch? Where is she?"

Reggie's expression shifted ever so subtly, but it was enough. Delsin bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep the scream inside, and barely succeeded; the muffled sound bounced throughout the room. He hung his head, the salt-water drops burning in his eyes, as his mind dredged up images: her neon-purple hair shining as she dropped out of a run, her coffee-brown eyes lighting up with mirth at one of his shitty jokes as they sat on the edge of one of the Pacific Science Center towers, the smirk of her mouth while they sniped at panicking Dupes on the street from a rooftop half a mile away.  _You killed her,_ a voice whispered to him.  _She'd still be here if it wasn't for you._

There was a sudden pressure on his shoulders, and he looked up to see Reggie mouthing:  _She's alive._

_She's alive._

:::

Eilís slowed for a moment, setting her feet back down on the weathered concrete as she cooled down. She panted, bent over with her hands on her knees, before straightening and unzipping her jacket pocket.  _Need to remember to thank Dale for the new clothes,_  she reminded herself. She took out a dented iPod Touch with red accents and a small Earin earbud capsule, gazing at the cracked screen for a bit before turning it on and activating the Bluetooth link. She put in the wireless earbuds, switched over to the Music app, and hit  _Shuffle_.

The sound of pianos filled the air, and she grinned as Peter Gabriel began crooning the opening lyrics to  _My Body Is A Cage_  by Arcade Fire. Eilís continued walking down the concrete tunnel, humming in time with the music as she switched over to iBooks and continued reading the new story she'd downloaded last night from AO3. In her opinion, Gabriel's rendition of the song was on par with Johnny Cash's  _Hurt_  and Brick+Mortar's  _Voodoo Child_ , but of course, someone had to disagree with her.

 _What to get… probably could go for a Monster and some jerky. I'm bloody_ starving.

She glanced up for a moment, just to make sure she was headed in the right direction, then returned to her story, engrossed in the current struggle. She made a right turn a few steps later, still reading, and promptly ran into someone.

Hot coffee splashed across Eilís' maroon jacket and the iPod's screen, and she scowled for a moment, irritated that her good mood was ruined. She was about to rip the person a new hole when a familiar high-pitched voice exclaimed, "I am so,  _so_ sorry! I should have looked where I was going! Oh no, and now-"

Eilís looked up and saw Samantha trying to wipe the coffee off her jacket with the sleeve of her cardigan, all the while apologizing. Her abdomen tightened ever so slightly, and she gritted her teeth.  _Some are born as eunuchs_ , she reminded herself,  _some are born as eunuchs. Don't do it, Eilí._ Don't _._

" 'ey, Sam," she said in a strained voice. "How's it going?"

"Oh!" Samantha finally looked up, face in a state of embarrassed shock. "Hey, Eilís! Oh, I'm so sorry for this, really! I'm such a klutz sometimes! Um-"

"Don't worry about it, Sam," Eilís interrupted, her tone soothing. "It'll dry off."

Samantha shook her head, brow still furrowed. "But I-"

" _Don't worry_ , Sam," Eilís repeated with a bit more force.

Her face fell. "Alright," she mumbled.

"Sorry," Eilís apologized, her heart beating faster with concern. "It's just… Dale made some new stuff, and ya know how he gets if it doesn't work perfectly every time, all the time."

"Right." Samantha gave her a small smile, shuffling her feet, and Eilís' heart beat just a little bit faster. "What's it made of?"

"Umm…" Eilís wracked her brain for the technical details Dale had given her about the suit, but her mind was focused on other things- Sam-shaped things. "I don' know."

"Aha!" Sam's eyes were gleaming with victory. "So you  _don't_  have perfect memory."

Eilís rolled her eyes. " _First off_ , it's called hyperthymesia, and second-"

"Your body's fast, not your mind," Samantha finished for her with a grin.

"Exactly." Pausing for a moment, Eilís fidgeted before asking, "So what brings ya here?"

"Coffee, for one. It's nearly impossible to get a good cup of java groundside, what with all the surveillance, and there's no way in  _hell_  I'm drinking that 'instant' crap."

"Amen to that," Eilís said with a chuckle. "My da always put a shotta scrumpy in 'is cup before drinking. Gave it a bit a extra kick."

Samantha shuddered. "Tried scrumpy once before. Ain't happening again."

"It's not  _too_  bad; just need to get used to the taste."

Samantha shook her head vehemently. "No."

Eilís sighed, then shrugged. "I'll convert ya yet, Sam."

"Nope." Samantha's face darkened, as if she was remembering a bad moment. "Dad said he needed my help with something. Don't know what it is, but I haven't seen him since I got here."

"Oh!" Eilís snapped her fingers. "He was with that Delsin kid, last I-"

" _Delsin?!_ " Eilís winced inwardly at the obvious worry and awe in Samantha's voice. "Where is he?!"

Eilís pointed back at the doorway. "He's over-"

" _Delsin!_ " Dr. Jones' voice rang in her ears.

Samantha gasped, and Eilís whirled around just in time to see a streak of neon blue and purple dash past. She growled in frustration, heading into the hallway.  _Just when I was getting somewhere…_

_And I forgot to get the fucking jerky!_

:::

Delsin collapsed to his knees, staring at the stark white room through foot-thick glass. Abigail was curled up in a fetal position in the far left corner; Delsin could hear the faint sound of whimpering coming over the speakers, and mutterings of "No...Oh, God,  _Brent_ …I'm sorry, please,  _don't_ …"

Something broke inside him. Delsin clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, rising slowly to his feet. Suddenly, he twisted and threw a punch at the grey concrete wall to his right. " _Fuck!_ " he swore loudly, pounding on the jagged surface repeatedly, spreading thin cracks across the wall. Abigail, oblivious to his tantrum, continued whimpering.

Delsin drew back his leg, and was about to kick at the substitute for a punching bag, when someone grabbed his shoulder.

"Delsin,  _stop it_."

Delsin whirled on Reggie, tears blurring his vision, and jabbed a finger at the containment room. "I  _failed_ , Reggie!" he raged, spittle flying from his mouth. "If I hadn't been a fucking  _dumbass_ , none of this would have happened!"

Reggie's face hardened, and without warning, he slapped his brother in the face.

Delsin stumbled back, shock coming over his features for a moment, before the rage returned tenfold.

"Shut up, Delsin," Reggie said in a low, quivering voice. He held up his hand, stopping Delsin from interrupting to continue his tirade, and continued speaking. "Yes, you failed. So did I, and so did Fetch. We all fucked up. And now here we are, with no plans, hunted like criminals, and surrounded by freaks who can't win a fight against normal people." He took a deep breath. "And guess what?"

"Don't fuck with me, Reggie; tell me."

"We're still alive, and now we have the advantage. We can find 'Mason', whoever he is, and we have access to the D.U.P.'s comms. We know what they're doing, and we can stop it."

Delsin snorted, swiping his sleeve across his eyes. "And how are we going to do that, Reg? Fetch is out, and it looks like no one here has the balls to do anything major against the Dupes."

"We have, brother. It may not look like much, but we have."

"Delsin turned his head to see who was talking, and leveled on the brightly lit hallway. There was a silhouette standing in the way of the light.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked in frustrated anger.

The shadowed person walked forward into the dimly-lit room. The stark light from Abigail's cell glinted off his gold-tinted Ray-Ban aviator glasses, and he grinned, giving him the appearance of a young biker Santa Claus.

"The Voice of Resistance, but you can call me Zeke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this has been the completely unedited, original copy of "coNTROL", minus the Author's Notes, of course. Let me know what you think, and whether or not I should dedicate some time to rewriting this thing.


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